A Twist of Fate
by CoCoPixie134
Summary: GOING TO BE DELETED AND REWRITTEN ASAP...
1. Chapter 1

In the Blink of an Eye A/n: This is NOT a co-authored story. This one is written by CoCo. Tell me what you think! Oh, and I got help from Pixie… please, no flames… Chapter 1 

A little boy's feet carried him across an emerald green schoolyard, scanning the trees for his father. His white tennis shoes shown brightly in the afternoon sun and his backpack, so large on his that it covered his entire back to the ground if he put it on, was trailing behind him.

A man, age 26, sat in the shade of an oak tree, watching his son with a film of tears in his eyes, his shaggy light brown hair flopped over his blue eyes as he shook his head back to loosen the tears. He wasn't go to cry right now.

The four-year-old's brown eyes sparkled in the light as he galloped to his father, a reckless grin spread across his face. Seizing his father's legs, the boy looked up adoringly at him, his hair blowing in the light December breeze.

"Hi, Daddy," The little boy said. "Do you want to see my finger painting?"

"I would _love _to see your finger painting, Owen," Troy Bolton said, as he scooped his son up in his arms and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

Pulling the finger painting out of his backpack, Owen flashed his biggest smile yet and handed it to his father.

"Well, it's very pretty," Troy said, as he turned the paper every which way. "It looks like a bird house!"

"Daddy, it's a puppy!" Owen giggled. Troy put him on the ground and stared into the endless Albuquerque sky.

Owen, though young as he was, sensed that something was wrong with his dad. Tugging on Troy's shirt, Owen asked, "Daddy, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just a little sad right now, buddy," Troy assured his son, ruffling his sandy brown hair.

"Would a lollipop help it? 'Cuz that's what the doctor gives me whenever I feel crummy," Owen told Troy with sincerity.

Troy chuckled. "No, Owen, this'll take more than a lollipop to help."

"Okay," Owen sat in silence for a moment, "Daddy, why are you so sad?"

"Because my heart was stolen, son," Troy answered, not taking his eyes off of the sky. "It was stolen a long time ago and I never got it back."

"Did you call the police?" Owen offered, eyes wide and nervous.

Troy sighed and looked down at the four-year-old.

"You have your mother's eyes, did you know that?"

"But I want my own eyes!" Owen whined.

Scooping his son up, Troy Bolton's mind went back long time ago, when all the wrong things happened, all for the right reasons.

Troy Bolton, age 17, stopped dead in his tracks, beads of sweat running down his face, when the whistle echoed throughout the gym.

"Great drop, team. Good effort. Go shower up," His father called to the basketball team and tossing the ball to Troy. "Go work on some free throws, Troy. They were sloppy today."

Troy stood in his fury watching with hatred in his eyes as his friends filed out of the gym. When everyone was gone, he turned to his dad.

"What was that about?" Troy asked loudly. "Just trying to embarrass me in front of the entire team?"

"You missed five free throws, Troy," Jack Bolton told his angry son, shaking his head.

"Out of almost thirty, Dad! Nothing I do is good enough for you, is it? 'Nice try. Those are looking better.' When can I do enough, Dad? Do you expect me to do a back flip for you to make you happy, because I will!"

Jack stared with a bewildered look at Troy, silence ringing through the gym. Troy's last words seeming to stick to his mind and linger in the air.

"All I want to do is make you proud, Dad, but when I try there's always room for _improvement_," Troy's eyes welled with tears. "I can't make you happy, can I?" He turned for the door.

Mr. Bolton's face burned with embarrassment. His son was questioning his authority and although no one was around, he never wanted to be challenged by his own son.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jack screamed at Troy.

Troy stopped dead in his tracks and turned around.

"I'm going to go have a life, _Dad_. Sports may be your life… but they're not mine." With this, Troy walked out of the gym, head held high, a tear dropping out of his eye.

"Daddy," Owen stared at his father from the backseat, feet wiggling in his car seat, "Did you know that it's going to be Mommy's birthday soon?"

Troy's mind made a double take and he looked into the review mirror at Owen. "Yes, I did, Owen. How- how do you remember?"

This seemed to puzzle Owen for a moment. Finally he answered, "Because you're always sad when it's close to Christmas and it's always because of Mommy."

_He has his mother's brains._

"Well, Owen, your Mom's a special person," He said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Can I go see her?" Owen asked with a quizzical look on his face.

"Now?" Troy asked, eyes being to blur. "You're going to see her in a couple of days anyway."

"I guess we can wait…" Owen sighed, starting to wiggle with anticipation. "Daddy?"

"Yes, son?" Troy said and with one shaking breath, cleared his head.

"How did you and Mommy meet?"

"Well, Owen, your mom and I went to school together…"

Gabriella Montez strolled out from the classroom, her arms laden with books. Waiting for her at her locker was her best friend, Taylor McKessie, smiling at her from afar.

Gabriella was walking towards her when she slammed into a conceited boy who wouldn't move out of the way for her to get passed, knocking all her books to the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me get those," The boy said and picked her books of the ground.

Shaking his shaggy brown hair out of his face and handed her the book and said, "Hi. I'm Troy Bolton.

Gabriella nodded her hello. He was the cutest conceited boy she had ever seen. His eyes were swollen with tears and when the met with hers, her stomach knotted.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry. I didn't see you and I…" Troy stopped in mid-sentence and looked at her. He watched her as she hurried away, brown curls bouncing behind her.

"What was that about?" Taylor asked Gabriella as she piled her books into her locker.

"What was what about?"

"You and Troy Bolton?" Taylor said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh. Well, he bumped into me and I dropped my books. He was just helping me out," Gabriella told her, searching the crowded hallways to find him. "It was nothing."

But he was the only thing Gabriella thought about for the next week.

::: … … ::: … … ::: … … ::: … … ::: … … ::: … ::: … … ::: … …::: … … ::: … … :::

Troy gathered with his friends, having lost all the redness in his eyes. His best friend, Chad Danforth, sat with a basketball tucked under his arm.

"You done with the free throws?" He asked Troy, smile curling on his lips. Although they were best friends, Chad loved it when he did better than Troy. The team sniggered. Apparently, they did too.

"Yeah. I only needed to do a couple," Troy lied, his face burning. "Um… hey, do you guys know anything about the new girl?"

"The new girl? Gabriella Montez? She's in my chemistry class. Man, is she smart " Jason Cross, another buddy of Troy's, said.

"Yeah. I just met her. She seemed nice…" Troy began.

"Finally chosen a girl, Bolton?" Troy cringed when he heard his last name called from behind him. Whirling around, he saw Mack Nixon, the biggest bully in school.

"What's do you want, Mack?" Troy sighed, staring at his feet. Mack Nixon had hated Troy since the second he stepped in the school. Troy immediately started out as the most popular guy in school, not to mention, he was the first sophomore ever on the Varsity team and all the girls in the school loved him. The reason he hated Troy was unknown but he hated him and when Mack Nixon hated you, there was no escaping the torture.

"You found a girl, huh? One of the millions lined up are good enough?"

"Leave him alone, Nixon," Chad snarled at Mack.

"Oh, please, you know it's true. You're angry that Troy gets all the girls, aren't you Danforth?" Mack was fishing for something to get Troy and Chad riled up. Whenever they were angry, he could get them to do anything.

"No, I'm not pathetic, Nixon. Now leave us alone and find a friend your own size. I hear Bigfoot's somewhere near by," Chad spat at him, which got all the team's attention and they started howling with laughter.

"You think you're so cool, Chad. But look around. You have no girl, no friends, no life…"

"That's not true," Troy said quietly.

"What was that, Bolton?" Mack growled at Troy.

"He has friends," Troy said. "He has me."

Mack scowled and said, "Bolton, you'll be sorry that you messed with me. Mark my words…" He stormed off leaving Troy to stand quietly while Chad looked at him with admiration.

::: … … ::: … … ::: … … ::: … … ::: … … ::: … ::: … … ::: … …::: … … ::: … … :::

Gabriella just got out of Science class, smiling, because she had received another one hundred percent on her test. Stuffing the paper into her backpack, she walked right into Mack Nixon, who she sat next to in Literature.

"Oh, hey, Mack," Gabriella said, "How was your Science test?"

"Great," He said absentmindedly, searching for something right above her head. His eyes lit up.

Troy Bolton was walking down the hall right towards them.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime this weekend," Mack said, casually leaning against the lockers.

"Oh, um… I… wow… um," Gabriella stammered.

Troy didn't even notice. He had bent down to tie his shoe and he couldn't hear them because their words were drowned out by the noise in the hallway.

"You know you want to," Mack said with a gleam in his eye.

"I um… look, Mack, you're a nice guy…but you're just not my type," Gabriella said, staring at the tile floor.

This got Troy's attention.

"Go out with me, Montez," Mac said. "I'm smart, popular, athletic…"

"Oh, just leave her alone, Mack," Troy said, coming behind Gabriella.

"Why should I? She's not seeing anyone. I have ever right to ask her out!" Mack barked.

"I am, actually," Gabriella almost whispered.

"What?" Troy and Mack said together.

"I'm going out with someone," Gabriella said, gaze fixed on Mack's gray eyes.

"Who?" He spat at her in disgust.

"Troy," She said, inventing frantically.

"Me?" Troy asked, astounded.

"Yeah," Gabriella said shooting Troy a furtive glance. "He asked me out yesterday and I said yes."

"Well, let's go, Gabriella…" Troy said, still amazed at what Gabriella was saying. Then Gabriella grabbed his hand, sending butterflies up his spine and into his stomach.

As they walked away, Mack stood watching, open-mouthed.

"Thank you, Troy," Gabriella said when they turned the corner, releasing Troy's hand.

"No problem," Troy said, not taking his eyes off of his hand, which Gabriella was holding seconds before.

"You know," Gabriella said teased, "You aren't a very good date."

"Huh?" Troy was vaguely paying attention. _Gabriella had grabbed his hand!_

"You didn't take me anywhere," She was still teasing.

"Do you like pizza?" Troy asked.

"Yeah," Gabriella sounded more serious now.

"Well, I know this really great pizza parlor downtown. My buddy's dad owns it. We should go after school," He said, looking at his shoes.

"Yeah, okay. Where do you want to meet?" Gabriella's voice faltered. She couldn't believe it. _Troy just asked her out!_

"Um… by the Science lab, if that's okay," Troy then saw his father turning the corner. "Okay, well, I'll see you later. Bye!"

He dashed away from Gabriella and flew up the stairs. His heart was racing. _He just asked Gabriella out!_

Gabriella leaned against the wall and sighed. Her heart was fluttering. _She was going out with **the** Troy Bolton!_

"Daddy," Owen was looking out the window, watching the bare trees whiz past him. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to the park, Owen, remember?" Troy said. "With Katherine, Lizzie, and Matthew. Uncle Chad's going to be there with Aunt Taylor."

Troy was with his friends form high school so often that Owen had gotten to know all of them by "Aunt" and "Uncle" and considering Owen had no aunts and uncles it was fine to call them that.

"Yeah!" Owen squealed with delight and Troy's mind subsided a little. A visit with his friend was just what he needed.

Pulling up at the park, Troy saw his friends stand up. All except Sharpay, who was going to have her baby girl, Lily, soon and was just too big to stand up.

"May I go play, Daddy?" Owen asked, looking longingly at the playground.

"Go ahead but be careful and stay warm. I'll be at the benches if you need me," Troy called after Owen who had already started to run to meet his friends.

All of Troy's friends laughed as Troy sat on the bench, his head in his hands.

"I told you parenthood isn't all it's cracked up to be," Chad said, patting his friend's back.

"How is everyone?" Troy asked, looking at all of his friends.

"Great. Taylor agreed to watch all the little guys today so I'm free," Kelsi said. She was always stuck with kid duty.

"I really need a grapefruit," Sharpay said suddenly. Apparently her food craving was grapefruits, although she rather despised them before she was pregnant. This made Troy think of when Gabriella was pregnant with Owen. Her food craving was carrots and peanut butter and with little Caroline-

Troy stopped. He wasn't going to think about Caroline. He had Owen. That's all he needed to make him happy.

"Katherine, we don't put dirt in our mouths!" Kelsi yelled to her two-year-old daughter. Taylor was too busy trying to get her earring out of her three-year old, Lizzie's, hands to notice. "Maybe one parent isn't enough for kid patrol. I'll be right back," Kelsi walked towards the playground saying, "Mommy doesn't like that, Katherine!"

"Maybe they need some help," Sharpay said, watching Ryan's daughter, Heather, and Chad and Taylor's five-year-old son, Matthew start screaming at each other.

"I'll go help them, Sharpay," Troy said. Sharpay was in no condition to go separate screaming kids. When Gabriella tried to separate Matthew and Lizzie while she was pregnant she almost fainted and started screaming that she didn't want her son to end up like them, which highly insulted Chad and Taylor. Taylor understood though. She was very moody when she was pregnant.

Sharpay stood up with some help from Zeke and she briskly said, "Thanks, Troy, but this is a woman's job."

"Amen to that," Jason mumbled when she walked away, which all the guys laughed at.

"So why are you so upset, Troy?" Zeke asked with a smile on his face.

"Oh, God, guys," Troy said, his hands collapsing back into his hands, "Owen wants to know about his mom."

A silence went through the group of boys, which was only broken by the sound of the scraping of leaves on the pavement and the whistle of air through the trees.

"I mean, how do you tell him about his mom? …Ryan, how do you do it?" Troy asked, breaking the silence between them. "How do you talk about Emily like everything is okay?"

"Troy," Ryan said, looking at his friend with a look of true sincerity. "Emily left me. She and I are divorced. I don't have any answers you're looking for. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I know but…why does this stuff always happen to me?" Troy looked at his friends with tears welled up in his eyes.

Troy's mind wandered all the way back when his fears were faced…

The only noise that was made was the crunch of the dry leaves underfoot as Troy headed towards the woman that he loved. He ragged breathing filled the air and the only thing Troy could seem to find comfort in was the fact that his son was in his arms, fast asleep, without a worry in the world.

Troy wished he could be that lucky as to carried through his troubles but he was older now. He was married and had children. His life could only get harder as he moved on.

His chest was constricted as he stared at the large stone, already covered with leaves and dirt. As the wind blew away the debris on the stone, words became visible.

Written in bold letters on the rock was:

Gabriella Montez Bolton

Loving Wife

Caring Mother

Best Friend

"Live, Laugh, and Love."

Troy read the words as tears leaked out of his eyes and he cried onto his son's shoulder. Maybe he was wrong, he carried his son through hard times and his son carried his burdens and from then on Troy promised himself that he would always love the small boy sitting in his arms with the love of Gabriella. And walking into the sunset, Troy's heart swelled with pain as he remembered the woman who had made his life worthwhile.


	2. Chapter 2

As/n: This IS a co-authored story. CoCo (that'd be me…heh.) stupidly forgot to remove the author's note!!!! Thanks for the reviews, keep reviewing. We appreciate it! By the way, this is in the future but not like there's time travel and stuff. It's exactly like today except that it's years in the future.

**Chapter 2**

Troy and his friends decided to go to dinner and talk for a while after they went to the park. Luckily, Gabriella didn't come up once in the conversation. Time flew by quickly for the old friends but when Heather fell asleep in her chicken fingers, everyone decided it was time to go home.

Driving home after dinner, Owen was fast asleep. It was well near ten o'clock when Troy and he got home and, to Owen, running around for two hours, eating graham crackers and apple juice, and coloring with sidewalk chalk was tiring, plus… it was way past his bedtime.

Looking upon Owen sleeping face, Troy's mind wandered…

HSM HSM HSM HSM

Gabriella was waiting for Troy after school. It was 3:37 and he still hadn't shown up. Suddenly, she remembered Troy was the basketball star, he had practice and he wouldn't dare miss it.

Then, she realized, Troy hadn't been going to practice a lot lately, just to see her. Her heart fluttered as she thought of his face, peering around a corner to see if she had come to meet him. She had instantly fallen in love with his eyes and his huge heart. Being the star of a basketball team didn't mean he was a cruel-hearted person. On the contrary, Troy was one of the sweetest boys she had ever met.

Troy's head popped around the corner followed by a torso wearing a warm-up jersey and the rest of Troy's body.

"Hey, sorry for the wait. I had to wait for my dad to leave before I left the gym. So where to today?" Troy asked, grabbing Gabriella's backpack off the ground and slinging it over his shoulder.

"I was thinking maybe my house. You know, so my mom can meet you," Gabriella said quietly. She had been planning this for a while now. Ms. Montez wanted to meet Troy for a long time but she wasn't sure how to tell this to Troy.

"Oh, um… okay, wow… I-uh…wow." That was all Troy could say. He hadn't expected this. He just wanted to walk around the park, maybe go get some ice cream but meeting his girlfriend's mom…that was different.

"I'm not dressed though," Troy said as he looked at his basketball outfit. "Maybe we should, stop by the mall or something… just so I could, you know, look proper."

"Yeah, okay. My mom isn't expecting us for another hour or so, so I guess that's okay," Gabriella led Troy to her small, red Nova. "It's not much, but it was all Mom and I could afford."

She blushed very deeply at this statement. Her mom didn't make much money but every time they moved to a new place, her mom was promised more money but never received it. Troy's family, on the other hand, was very wealthy. Well, not _very _wealthy but they had enough money to buy Troy a Land Rover and basically anything he wanted. Not that he wanted much. Gabriella remembered Troy telling her once that all he wanted was his own life, his own job, and a wife and children.

"No problem," Troy said, throwing her backpack into the backseat.

"Let's stop by Crestwood Mall. They have a great sale on purses right now," Gabriella said, almost forgetting that Troy could care less about purses but she always felt she could be herself around him. He just made her feel that way. Like she could just float away, lost in his eyes, and never turn back.

"Okay. Maybe they have one in _pink_," Troy teased in a girly voice, mouth in a very wide grin.

Gabriella laughed and started the car. _I lov- _No. She wasn't going to even _think _that. She had only known Troy for a month or so… it was too early. But she still couldn't help but to add those four little letters at the end. It was just so hard _not _to love Troy Bolton. He was a gentleman, a nice guy, and not too mention, he wasn't half-bad looking. Okay, he was gorgeous, the hottest guy Gabriella had ever dated. She loved the way Troy's sandy brown hair flopped over his sparkling blue eyes, the way he pushed his sleeves up whenever he went anywhere because his arms would get too hot, she loved the freckle next to his right eye, she loved everything about him.

Gabriella Montez tried to deny it… but, she was in love with Troy Bolton.

Troy and Gabriella walked past a small trinket store. Gabriella looked longingly inside, when finally Troy said, "Gabriella, you want to go in there? Let's go check it out."

Walking inside, Gabriella's eyes scanned the shelves until she found what she was looking for. A small silver metal hung off a matching chain. Written on the silver oval, in a fancy text, was a tiny letter G.

"Just so you'll never forget me," Gabriella said, purchasing it and hanging it around Troy's neck.

Troy ran his fingers over it. He would always cherish it.

"I'll never forget you, Gabriella," Troy said, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

After many fruitless attempts to find Troy an outfit they finally decided on a blue button down shirt and a pair of jeans. It was cheap, too. But Troy didn't even _care _about the costs, or even how stupid he looked in the high heels aisle with Gabriella. He just wanted to be with her, always. He knew he was risking his Captaincy on the basketball team and even a _spot _on the team to see Gabriella but he just had to. He loved the way her curly brown hair bounced and how it shined in the sunlight. He loved watching the happiness dance in her eyes as they walked around together; he loved holding her soft, warm hand. But he knew what he was doing was wrong. He was skipping practice and skiving off on homework just to be with Gabriella.

Troy Bolton wouldn't deny it… he had fallen head over heels for Gabriella Montez.

As the days went on, Gabriella and Troy risked everything to see each other, even for a couple of minutes. Troy's team got angrier and angrier every time he didn't show up for practice not to mention how furious his father was for not even caring about the team anymore. Ms. Montez had, just like Gabriella, fallen in love with Troy, but in a different way. She loved how he was kind and polite and that he really did care about Gabriella, but she was also getting very angry. Gabriella had been spending more time with Troy than studying and was doing very poorly on her tests. Then, she got a call form Taylor McKessie wondering way Gabriella was missing all of the Scholastic Decathlon practices. Things were not going so well for Troy and Gabriella but they didn't care. All they needed was each other.

Gabriella's life was the best it had been in a long time until the one fateful day when she walked past her kitchen and happened to hear her mother's phone conversation.

"Seattle?" Her mom said. "A few months? I'll think about it. I mean, Gabriella's just getting settled and she's very happy here. …Pay raise? Two hundred dollars? …It a very big possibility, sir. I need the money and I'll go to Seattle to get it but… I just need to be careful about Gabriella. I don't want to hurt her again."

Gabriella ran upstairs into her room, sobbing hysterically. Every time she and her mother got settled somewhere they had to move somewhere else, but now everything was different. She had Troy, the boy who had changed her life, her heart, her mind. She couldn't leave him, not when she was so madly in love.

And Gabriella admitted it. She was in love with Troy Bolton.

Troy Bolton's life was the best it had been in a long time. But one day, his friends had enough. They were sick of him leaving basketball practice and they were furious.

Chad was the only one brave enough to smart off to the captain, so one day, during free period Chad asked Troy to come to the empty English classroom to talk.

When he arrived in the room, Troy was immediately shoved roughly into a chair by his best friend.

"Dude, what's going…" Troy began, rubbing his head, which had been jerked back by this sudden blow.

"Troy, just shut up and listen to me," Chad said, a vein in his temple throbbing, "You've been skipping practice a lot lately. The team is working their butts off to get ready for the games, trying to get as good as you, but they haven't. But at least they're trying. You, on the other hand, haven't even been to a single practice in three weeks and we have a division game next week! You don't care anymore, Cap. And we need you."

Guilt burst through a dam in Troy's chest. He had let his team down, big time and that's not what a Captain does. But recently, Troy had been thought something about life. It wasn't all about basketball. It was about whom you love and care for.

"So, that's the only thing you have to say, Troy? Nothing? Well, you've been giving us a lot of nothing lately and we want something from you. We want some effort out of our captain. Is that too much to ask?" Chad was screaming now. Clearly, he had put a lot of thought into this.

"Chad, you don't get it," Troy said, standing up and staring him right in the eyes. "Basketball doesn't matter anymore. I have someone I love and I'm not giving her up for some stupid sport! I never wanted to start basketball but my dad insisted I would eventually like it. Chad, I didn't want to do something I was eventually going to like! I wanted to do something that I love to do and I didn't have to try as hard I could to like it. I wanted a normal life, away from the popularity of being a 'Basketball guy'. Chad, I want to be normal."

Chad's face relaxed for a moment, but then his body tensed up again. "This is about her, isn't it? Gabriella?"

Troy looked down at the floor.

"Troy, you can't let the team down for a girl. What do you even know about this girl, Troy? Nothing!"

"Sometimes nothing is enough…" Troy answered.

Chad shoved Troy one more time before walking out of the room, a film of tears on his eyes.

And Troy Bolton had just lost his best friend.

HSM HSM HSM HSM

Troy carried Owen into their small two-bedroom apartment. Throwing the car keys on the wooden coffee table, Troy looked at the pictures lined up on the mantle above the fireplace.

One showed a picture of a younger Troy, Gabriella, and Owen, all smiling, their hands holding onto each other's.

A big picture of Gabriella was in the center of the mantle with a wilting rose at the bottom of the frame. Troy's eyes filled with tears again but he brushed them away and stared at the next picture.

This one caused all of the tears in Troy's eyes to drip out, all running off his cheeks and onto Owen's green fleece jacket.

It was of a baby girl, about three moths old, smiling up from her crib. She was lying on pink blanket, reading Caroline in a curly cursive text.

On the bottom of the picture frame were the words:

Caroline Jacquelyn Bolton

September 19, 2013

December 22, 2013

Troy carried his son into his bedroom, laying him gently under the blue flannel sheets on his bed. Kissing him on the cheek, Troy wiped a tear off of his face and, sniffling, walked into his room next door.

Troy pulled on his pajamas and slipped into bed. He pulled a necklace off of his neck and laid it on the bedside table. Troy almost instantly fell asleep.

Looking upon the bedside table, you would see a silver necklace. Barley legible in the pale moonlight was the letter G craved carefully into the metal.


	3. Chapter 3

**As/n: We hope you like the fic. Please review. We would love to hear your opinions.**

**Chapter 3**

"Come on, Daddy! I'm going to be late!" Owen said.

"I'm coming," Troy laughed, being dragged down by his son, who was holding his hand and running as quickly as his little legs would carry him.

Finally they arrived at their destination.

Kelsi and Jason's house was a small two-story house with bright shutters and an enormous yard. Troy slowly walked up the cobblestone path, leading to the front door when he stopped.

Across the street was the house. _His _house. The only thing left was the ashes and charred wood, the remains of a horrible memory. The remains of the _worst _memory. This house was where he and Gabriella had raised their kids, until that one fateful night…

HSM HSM HSM HSM

It was three days before Christmas, December 22. A fire was crackling merrily in the stone fireplace while Gabriella and Troy sang Christmas Carols next to the Christmas tree.

Little Caroline was bundled in her pink blanket, cradled in Troy's arms. Three-year-old Owen was on Gabriella's hips, sucking his pink thumb.

Silent night 

_Holy night_

_All is calm_

_All is bright_

_Round young virgin_

_Mother and child_

_Holy infant so tender and mild_

_Sleep in heavenly peace_

_Sleep in heavenly peace_

Troy and Gabriella's soothing voices rang throughout the room in perfect harmony. Caroline was fast asleep and Troy decided to lay her in her crib. Little did he know that was the last time he would every see her…

Gabriella noticed Owen rubbing his bright brown eyes.

"You sleepy?" She asked, chuckling.

Carrying him towards his bedroom, Gabriella yawned and looked around for Troy. He was probably in the bedroom, trying to get some sleep.

Owen would never know this was the last moments he would get to spend with his mother…

After putting a very sleepy Owen to bed, Gabriella walked into her bedroom, finding Troy fast asleep.

On the bedside table, she noticed something gleaming in the moonlight, a silver medal. She had bought that for Troy in high school. Had he really kept it all these years? Kissing Troy softly on the cheek, Gabriella's heart swelled with compassion. She loved Troy very much. She knew she would always be with him, for better or for worse.

The moment Gabriella's head hit the pillow she was filled with exhaustion and minutes later, was fast asleep.

What seemed like seconds later, Gabriella and Troy were awoken by the scream of an alarm. Their smoke alarm was blaring from the hallway.

Troy wrenched opened the door and was met by a deluge of smoke.

The house was slowly burning down to the ground.

Troy blindly went through the halls, desperately trying to find one of his children's bedrooms.

Burning his hand on a scalding doorknob, Troy opened a door and rushed inside. Owen was in his bed, crying loudly.

"Daddy!" He screamed through his tears, seeing Troy's figure through a sheet of smoke and fire.

Troy grabbed the crying toddler and dashed out of the room, hitting a solid figure on his way out.

Gabriella had gone to find Caroline.

"Troy!" Gabriella screamed over the blaze of the fire, "Troy, I'm going to get Caroline! Get Owen out!"

"No, Gabi, take Owen. I'll get Caroline!" Troy started to hand Owen to Gabriella.

"No! Troy, get yourself out. I'll be okay!"

Troy looked at the fire around him. They were steadily growing bigger. He didn't have time to argue.

"Okay, but Gabriella," Troy began. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Troy." Kissing Troy hard on the lips, Gabriella ran towards Caroline's room and Troy ran for the front door.

Outside of the house, Troy started to cough and splutter. He had inhaled a lot of smoke. It was getting harder to stand, harder to breathe. Setting Owen on the ground, Troy squinted into the blazing fire. Gabriella was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, the smoke had gotten to Troy and his knees buckled, sending him tumbling to the ground, to wake up and find out that he would never again see his wife or his three month old daughter.

HSM HSM HSM HSM

Troy shuddered as he looked at his palm with a mark from the burn still there. If he had just given Owen to Gabriella everything would have been fine. If he had been smart enough to turn off the Christmas lights on the tree, everything would be the same as it was back then. But everything would be different; Troy would have still been trying to become an NBA player. He wouldn't be working with the children he was with now as a music teacher. His life would be different, much different. And he didn't know which was worse, his life different or his life the same.

And Troy wondered this until he got into the house, happy and content, or so he seemed to be.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Troy grabbed a freshly baked cookie, courtesy of Zeke. Munching down on it, he concentrated on a song that was softly playing on the radio.

There goes my life… 

_There goes my future, my everything…_

_I love you, Daddy, good-bye…_

_There goes my life…_

**(As/n: There Goes my Life by Kenny Chesney)**

Troy turned off the radio and dashed out the door, tears stinging his eyes.

And Troy Bolton ran, he ran as far away as he could from his life, his pain, and his memories, at the time, Troy couldn't figure out which hurt the most.

**As/n: Okay, well, we know it's short but we got the message across. Tell us what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

As/n: Disclaimer: We do not own anything but the plot. Chapter 4 

Troy's sorrow brought him to a park and not just any park. _The _park, where he and Gabriella shared their first kiss. Why had his life been so horrible? What did he do to deserve these things? But Troy remembered sitting on this exact same bench wondering the exact same thing. Was it déjà vu? No. Troy answered his own question. It was fate…

HSM HSM HSM HSM

Troy walked to the park. It was nine o'clock at night on a Friday night and he was going to meet Gabriella. Looking at the trees surrounding the park, Troy thought of his father. The strong trunk holding itself up, ready for anything to hit it. The long branches reaching out for everything, reaching for the sky, Troy's heart, Troy's dreams….

Troy shook his head and kept walking. He was going to meet Gabriella at the park bench next to the fountain. This was a special spot for them. This was where they first kissed.

Listening to the tinkling of the water from the fountain, Troy waited for Gabriella. Finally she arrived heading straight for Troy.

Smiling, Troy grabbed her hand and walked over to the grassy clearing by the magnificent fountain. Lying on the ground was an old quilt and a single rose, waiting for Troy and Gabriella to come to them.

Troy had set it up an hour before he came. He couldn't think of any thing else to put, except for a special surprise. Hidden in the shadows of pine tree boughs was a radio, softly playing one of Gabriella's favorite songs.

**(As/n: A Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson)**

Oh and I don't know  
I don't know what is after  
But he's so beautiful  
Such a beautiful disaster  
And if I could hold on  
Through the tears and the laughter  
Would it be beautiful?  
Or just a beautiful disaster

Gabriella's heart melted when she heard Troy's low, loving voice travel throughout the empty park. Smiling she joined in.

He's magic and myth  
As strong as what I believe  
A tragedy with  
More damage than a soul should see  
And do I try to change him?  
So hard not to blame him  
Hold on tight  
Hold on tight

Troy's voice faltered when he heard the sweet, soothing tone of Gabriella's voice intertwine with his, threading into perfect harmony.

_This is her, _Troy thought. _This is the one I've waited for._

Gabriella stared into Troy's happy eyes, getting sucked into him, as if they were one body, one soul, one voice. They belonged together and anyone, even someone not gifted with her brainpower, could have guessed it.

Troy stopped singing. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, sighing s he went. Everything was perfect. But as we all know, everything can change… in the blink of an eye.

Gabriella nestled up to Troy, feeling his breathing on her neck. His warm breath soothed her. He had no idea what was lying ahead for him.

Gabriella sat in the warmth of Troy's arms for what seemed like hours when Troy finally spoke.

"Look. A shooting star," He said indicating to one, firing across the sky. "You know, people say that shooting star's bring your heart's desire, so make a wish."

Gabriella looked in his beautiful eyes, feeling like she was staring directly into his glowing heart.

"You know I will," She answered, snuggling closer to his chest.

"I hope it comes true," Troy said with sincerity.

"It already has… It brought me you," Gabriella then leaned in and kissed him, Troy kissing her back until Gabriella pulled away. Her mind zoomed to her mother's phone conversation. Seattle. That was a long way away.

"Troy, I can't do this," She pulled away form Troy who immediately grabbed her hand.

"What can't you do?" He asked, looking directly in her eyes.

"I can't love you!" She screamed, her words echoing throughout the vacant park. The impact of the words hit Troy hard. Then quietly, he spoke.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm scared!" She started to sob and put her head in her hands. Troy pulled her shaking body into a hug. Gabriella choked out the entire story, sobbing even harder at the end.

"Shhh," He soothed, rubbing her back. "It's all going to be okay."

"How can you be so sure?" She asked angrily.

"Because I'll never let anything happen to you, Gabriella…"

But what Troy Bolton didn't know, is that years later, he would have broken this silent vow.

HSM HSM HSM HSM

"Forget something?" Chad's smiling face asked Troy, breaking Troy out of his reverie.

Chad had followed Troy all the way to the park. He thought about talking to him but Troy's emotions had been so rocky lately Chad decided to let him think. So instead, he turned around back to the house, and got Owen who was screaming because he missed his daddy and wanted to go home if he wasn't there.

Chad lifted Owen and set him in Troy's lap.

"Daddy!" Owen squealed with delight. "I thought you were never coming back! I thought you left without saying good-bye!" His face was tear-streaked and pink from crying.

"The kid almost broke my eardrums in the car," Chad said with a laugh, ruffling Owen's light hair.

"Sorry, Uncle Chad," Owen said, looking at the button's on Troy's shirt. But Owen then gripped Troy into a hug and said, "Don't leave me, Daddy."

"I won't, Owen. I won't."

He couldn't help but wonder if he was ever going to break this promise.

Troy lifted Owen and set him on the ground. Looking down at his shirt he saw it was covered in purple and red finger paint. Owen giggled.

"Oopsies."

"You are a disaster, Owen, you know that?" Troy teased and grabbed his son by the middle and swung him around. Owen was giggling like crazy.

_He's a beautiful disaster._


	5. Chapter 5

As/n: We would like to thank starrie.skies for being so forgiving and kind. She was a big help for this story. Chapter 5 

**Smiling on the Outside, Crying on the Inside…**

Troy loved his son very much; in fact, Owen was the reason he began teaching music class at East Junior High. He loved the children he worked with and he loved to teach them all he could about music.

But something in Troy never wanted to see a kid (besides his own son, of course) when he ran, Owen in his arms, down the hallways of the hospital towards the room, which held Sharpay and Zeke, anxiously awaiting their baby girl.

He got the call that morning while he was eating breakfast. Actually, he was _trying _to eat his breakfast but Owen had spilt his cereal everywhere and Troy was desperately cleaning it up so it wouldn't get all over Troy's new shoes. So he settled on coffee, which had immediately had to become a to-go coffee because Taylor called him screaming her lungs off into the receiver. Although Troy was holding the phone about a foot away from his ear he heard, through the jumble of shouts, Troy heard the words "Sharpay", "Zeke," "St. Luke's Hospital", and "baby".

Troy scooped up Owen and went as fast as he could to the hospital.

Listening to the pounding of his feet, Troy looked around the halls that were all too familiar. He remembered coming here for little Caroline and Owen. But skidding to a halt at the end of a hallway, Troy looked into a room. Sharpay was lying in a white hospital bed, her stomach now back to its regular size, looking at her baby girl.

She had delivered the baby at four in the morning and Zeke and Sharpay felt it rude to call them at such an early time so they waited until seven o' clock when Sharpay was well rested and Zeke was done icing his hand. Sharpay looked harmless and probably was but giving birth to a baby was enough to make her practically rip off Zeke's hand.

When Troy walked in he was panting heavily and Owen was giggling like a crazy person.

"Daddy's silly!" He said, clapping his hands.

"Welcome back, Troy!" Jason said, obviously referring to two days ago when he had run out of the house.

"Hey, guys. Sharpay, how are you feeling?"

"I'm doing great." She was smiling, pink in the face, holding her baby with care.

"She's beautiful. May I hold her?"

Sharpay handed the baby to Troy with care. She was still fast asleep. Troy could only see a crinkled pink face under the blanket and the baby hat that was five sizes too big. Looking at her face made Troy's eyes well with tears. She looked like Caroline, almost exactly like Caroline, and Troy missed her so much. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she and Gabriella weren't gone, he would come to realize they were gone and nothing could be done to help them. Owen and he were on their own.

"So- so Lily is definitely her name?" Troy asked, shaking his head to get rid of the tears.

Everyone in the room froze. They had obviously been talking about this before he got there.

"Well, actually we were thinking of maybe naming her Gabriella. Gabriella Caroline Baylor," Zeke said quietly.

Troy's insides froze. "Gabriella?" He said, gulping down air. He started to shake and he handed Zeke the baby.

"Yeah, would you like that?" Sharpay said earnestly.

"Um… don't worry. Just name her Lily. I know how much you wanted that name." Troy was screaming on the inside. _What were they doing?_

"Yeah, but we thought- we thought it might comfort you, you know?" Zeke put a reassuring hand on Troy's shoulder.

"No, guys, please, name her Lily. Please. I uh- I'm going to sit outside for a second. It's hot in here." He pulled at his tie. It _did_ feel hot in there. His tie was suffocating him. The walls were closing in. He couldn't take it any more. Troy scooped up Owen and scurried out the door before anyone could stop him.

He had done this a lot lately, running away from his problems. Troy couldn't find any other way to cope with them. He started to realize all that he had gone through. But Troy Bolton was not going to give up and he started to slow down…

He reached the lobby when he started to sob. Not like before. But this time, he cried with his pain, with his whole body. _No one _would know what he was going through. It was bad enough they were gone but to namethe baby after them… It was all too much for Troy. He buried his face into Owen's small chest and started sobbing, his entire body shaking, aching. Aching for the love, the people he loved, his life.

Troy knew it was wrong to break down in front of his son. He was supposed to be strong, but every man had to break down someday, and Troy knew his day would be soon, he just wished it wouldn't have to be today.

Owen sat silently in his father's arms, not knowing what to say, or what to do. Finally, he spoke up, "Daddy," He whispered gently. "You miss Mommy and Caroline, don't you?"

Troy picked his head up. Wiping his tears away, sniffing, he said, "Owen, I loved them very much and I want to see them again. I just don't know what I'm going to do without them anymore."

Owen pondered this for a second.

"But you have me."

Troy's teary eyes met with Owen's.

"But I have you." He repeated. Troy hugged Owen tightly and walked inside of Sharpay's room to talk to his friends once more.

"You okay, Troy?" Kelsi asked as Troy and Owen walked into the room.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He lowered Owen to he ground. Although Troy was smiling on the outside, he was crying on the inside. Although he loved Owen _very _much, Owen could never be Gabriella or Caroline. "She's gone. I have to face the truth. I may never see her again but I still love her and that's all I need to hold onto."

"We decided to keep her name Lily. We thought maybe it might help, you know. We didn't mean to hurt you or anything…" Sharpay looked at her white sheets.

"No, you didn't mean to. It's fine, really. I'm just… I'm just a weak man, what can I say?" And with these words Troy started to cry again, in front of his friends, in front of his son. He didn't care. Chad put his arms around Troy as the tears trickled down his cheeks. Troy stood with a defeated look on his tear-stained face and cried onto his best friend's shoulder.

He _was _a weak man. He knew it and it was hard to act strong when he hurt so much inside. He wanted so badly to just let himself go and leave this world that had brought him so much pain but he couldn't. Owen needed him and it was all he could do to keep onto that ray of hope. The young boy clinging onto Troy's leg, crying tears of Troy's suffering was Troy's hope. Owen was his lifesaver and his hero and Troy couldn't help but think…

_Heroes don't die._

He grabbed his son and looked upon the surprised face of his friends. With a newfound hope Troy said to them, "Why aren't we celebrating?"

These actions hit Chad Danforth like a bullet. His friend was upset and he had to do something about it. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to do it. But Chad did something he hadn't done in a long time. Chad came up with a scheme…

**As/n: Sorry it's short and the writing's not the best but… R&R!**


	6. Chapter 6

As/n: This chapter will have a little humor in it! But if you don' t like humor just tell us and we'll try to make it less funny! We really appreciate all the reviews and we hope you'll keep reviewing! Chapter 6 

**Girl Wars**

Chad Danforth was sitting at his cherry wood desk, papers strewn everywhere. His reading glasses were sliding down his nose as he discouragingly flipped through his High School phone book. His eyes brightened as he saw one name on the list.

Callie Greensburg.

She was the overly peppy head cheerleader at East High, whom every boy loved. She was beautiful, popular, and she always got what she wanted. Everything… except Troy Bolton. Troy didn't care for a snobby rich cheerleader but she wanted Troy and she wanted him badly so badly in fact…

HSM HSM HSM HSM

Gabriella hummed as she skipped down the hallways of East High. Then she saw Callie Greensburg, the head cheerleader. She was sporting the latest fashion for the cheerleaders. A skirt that was so shot Gabriella had _underwear _longer than it and a tube top that barely covered her stomach.

Gabriella shot her a reproachful look and kept walking down the hall but little did she know she was getting the same look from Callie and the cheerleaders but for reasons other than clothes. Their reason… was Troy Bolton.

Everybody at East High knew that Callie wanted Troy Bolton as a boyfriend but Gabriella and the cheerleaders wanted to make it perfectly clear to Gabriella that Troy was off-limits.

Taylor McKessie noticed this and found it completely unfair. Gabriella was Troy's _girlfriend_. Troy didn't even _like _Callie. He liked Gabriella and no amount of honey brown hair and overly used make-up would ever change his mind that was sure. But the cheerleaders were determined to get Troy and Callie hooked up. They would be the "ideal couple". She was a cheerleader; he was a jock. They would just be _so cute _together, right?

Wrong.

Troy couldn't _stand _Callie and everyone, even Callie, knew it. But she was still doggedly trying to convince Troy that they were made for each other but one day, Callie took things _way _too far…

Troy was sitting at a cafeteria table, slowly opening his brown paper bag. He was running late that morning and his mom made his lunch. She seemed to forget that Troy was not two-years-old anymore. She packed him half a sandwich, applesauce, carrot sticks, and Juicy Juice apple juice.

Troy looked at his sandwich with a look of boredom spread on his face. He had his mouth wide open to take a bite when Chad screamed at him from three tables over, dropping his lunch tray and all the food on it.

"Troy! Don't!" Chad came rushing over. "Dude, look at the sandwich!"

Troy opened the first piece of bread and looked inside. Peanut butter and jelly. Troy was deathly allergic to peanuts. He had known that since he was five years old and he had almost taken a bite out of the sandwich.

"Thanks, Chad," Troy said in awe. "How'd you know that there was peanut butter init?"

"It was coming out of the side of the sandwich. Man. That was close," Chad collapsed on the chair.

"Here. Take my lunch. It's probably covered with peanuts anyway," Troy slid his lunch across the table, stomach grumbling.

Chad laughed when he saw Troy's lunch. "She just won't let go, will she?" He asked with a laugh.

"No." Troy groaned and laid his head in his hands.

He couldn't help but wonder why his mom would pack him peanuts when she knew he was allergic to them. But his mom had been very busy that morning too. She probably thought that Troy was his father. She did that a lot.

But that's when it happened. Gabriella walked over to Troy from one side of the cafeteria, Callie from the other.

Callie stepped up to Troy before Gabriella got there and grabbed his face with her manicured hands.

She turned Troy's shocked face towards her and kissed him smack dab on the lips.

Troy's eyes widened as he pulled away and stared at Gabriella. Her fists were in a ball at her side, shaking in anger. Her face was contorted with rage and she took menacing steps towards Callie.

Callie however, was quite pleased with herself. She had a very satisfied look on her face and she applied new lipstick on her lips, her old coat on Troy's.

Troy just seemed to notice the lipstick and wiped it off while Chad stared at Gabriella. No one had ever seen her that mad, Troy included.

Gabriella then, did the unthinkable. She reached out her hand and slapped Callie across the face.

It was as if the entire cafeteria was on mute. The girls' expressions switched, but instead of slapping Gabriella back, Callie stormed away in anger.

The cafeteria started buzzing, then it got louder and louder until the whole room was cheering for Gabriella. She had done something no girl had ever done before. She had given Callie what she deserved and this only made Troy love Gabriella more.

So much for Callie's break-up plan…

HSM HSM HSM HSM

Although this event seemed to stick to everyone's minds, Chad Danforth's mind had no recollection of the incident as he punched the numbers in the phone.

_Riiiiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing._

"Hello?"

"Hey, Callie. This is Chad Danforth from East High."

"Oh, hey, Chad. Wow. I haven't seen you in years. What are you calling for?"

"I was wondering… what are you doing Saturday night? Because I hear Troy's looking for a date…"

As/n: What do you think? It was short but it got a point out. We hope you read carefully because there is something in there that will be important in chapters ahead! Go, Gabriella! Go, Gabriella! R&R 


	7. Chapter 7

As/n: Hey, we hoped you read the last chapter thoroughly because it's very important for this chapter. Oh and, everyone, the information (like the stuff that can actually _happen_) in this chapter might be incorrect but we couldn't understand how to read the Internet sites giving us the information!

**Chapter 7**

**Chad's Mistakes**

Troy was loosening his tie in front of the mirror.

"Okay, emergency numbers are on the fridge, if he feels low just prick his finger and if his blood sugar is below 100 call me!"

Troy was always the nervous parent when someone else had to take care of Owen. Owen was diagnosed with type 2 Diabetes when he was two years old and it always scared Troy to death. If something happened it might take a while for Troy to get to his son and Troy always feared he would be too late…

"Troy, he'll be _fine_," Chad said, waving his hand and straightening Troy's tie. He was taking care of Owen while Taylor was at home watching Lizzie and Matthew. Chad had so brilliantly set up a date with Troy but still wouldn't tell who it was. This made Troy nervous. Chad was his best friend but when it came to girls… Chad couldn't pick a date out for Troy and Troy knew it.

Owen was sitting, perfectly content, at the wooden kitchen table. Crayola crayons rolled across the table and his pictures were all in a neat pile next to his juice cup.

"Daddy, look at my picture!" He held up his masterpiece to Troy.

Troy stared amazed at Owen's picture. For a four year old, this was amazing. Troy could actually see eyes, a mouth, even a nose.

"Wow, Owen. Can I keep this?" Troy asked.

"Yeah. You want all of them?" Owen held up a fistful of about 13 pictures.

"Well, I'll take this one for right now but I'll see the rest later. I promise." Troy shook back his sleeve to reveal a $15 Target watch. "Oh, and now I'm going to be late. I'll see you later. I love you, Owen." Troy planted a kiss on Owen's head and ruffled his hair. "I love you, Chad." Troy teased and kissed Chad on the top of his head. Chad shoved him out the door.

"Have fun!"

Troy started to walk to the car and screamed over his shoulder, "And please, take a bath!"

He heard moans from both Chad and Owen coming from the kitchen. Chuckling he drove to his date. He was just imagining a smart, independent woman just like Gabriella.

But, boy, was he surprised when he got to the restaurant.

………….

………….

Callie Greensburg tapped her high-heeled Prada shoes on the tile floor. Her date was three minutes late and she did not like to be kept waiting. Besides, her daddy always said she was too pretty to be waiting for someone else. They should be waiting for her.

She smiled at the thought of going on a date with Troy Bolton.

She had the biggest crush on him in High School. She hoped he was still as hot as he was then because some of the boys in her grade were total losers now, balding spots, dorky sweater vests, orthopedic loafers, the whole nine yards.

She heard the bell tinkle and a young man stepped into the restaurant.

Troy Bolton was still, to Callie's relief, gorgeous. He was wearing black dress pants that were too baggy at the bottom but not so baggy that he was tripping over them. His white button down shirt had its sleeves rolled up and the shirt was untucked, his striped tie hung loosely around his neck. His shaggy hair brushed against his face, his blue eyes gleaming in the pale light.

Perfect. He looked just like high school; hopefully he still acted like it.

………….

………….

Troy looked at his loose tie. That was a bad habit of his. He would always loosen his tie. He just felt like it was suffocating him.

He looked up from his tie and saw his date. Well, it might not have been his date. But she was the only person in the entire restaurant who was alone so he walked over to her, every step he took he seemed to recognize the girl more and more.

Not until he smelt her very fragrant perfume did Troy realize whom it was.

"Troy!" Callie Greensburg screamed as Troy walked towards her.

"Callie," Troy half-groaned half- exclaimed. With a cheesy smile plastered on his face, Troy was pulled into a hug, which he just barely returned.

"I haven't seen you since high school!" Callie exclaimed. "You look great!"

"You do too," Troy said uncomfortably.

That was a very big understatement. Callie was gorgeous.

Her honey blonde hair bounced on her shoulders. Her Prada dress hugged her every curve while her bright blue eyes sparkled in the light. She clutched her Coco Chanel purse with a newly manicured hand.

Troy and Callie were then ushered to their table by a teenage waiter.

"Would you like to order drinks?" The waiter asked, flipping open a notebook and clicking on the bottom of a pen.

"I'll take a Merlot," Callie demanded immediately, batting her long black eyelashes at Troy.

"Um… do you have Ginger Ale?" Troy asked, looking away from Callie.

"Yes, sir," The waiter said.

"Okay, well I'll have a Ginger Ale please."

"Okay. Your merlot and ginger ale will be out soon." The boy walked away and disappeared into the kitchen. The table was silent until the drinks got back to them. Callie watched Troy as he took a sip of his drink.

"Ginger Ale?" Callie asked in disbelief.

"I don't drink," Troy answered casually, putting his cloth napkin in his lap.

"Why not?" Callie asked stunned by this piece of information.

"Well, I just don't like the taste. I didn't even have any at the wedding…"

Callie pit out her Merlot.

"W-wedding?" She asked spluttering.

"Well, yeah. I'm not married anymore…"

"Oh. Divorced?"

"No, actually. I'm a widower," Troy said, playing with his napkin.

"Oh. Well, that's too bad," Callie took another sip of merlot but Troy couldn't help but note the happiness in her voice. "What's that?"

She was indicating to the piece of paper sticking out of his shirt pocket.

"Oh. It's nothing. It's a um… it's a picture my son drew," He said, shoving it deeper in his pocket.

"Son?" Callie asked, eyes wide. "Did you he die too?"

"No. Um… he's a at home with Chad." Troy answered.

"Well, wow, Troy. May I ask who you were married to?"

"Gabriella Montez," Troy answered with no trace of embarrassment or shame. In fact, he said it with pride. He loved Gabriella and he didn't want to be with anyone else. In fact…

"I think I'm going to go," Troy said, scooting out his chair.

"No, please stay," Callie said desperately.

Just then, Troy's cell phone began to ring.

"Excuse me for one second," Troy dug his phone out of his pocket. On the screen it said "Chad's Cell". He answered it. "Hello?" Troy sighed.

"Troy," Chad said urgently. "It's Chad. You need to come to the hospital _now_. Something's wrong with Owen."

Troy hung up the phone and lowered it, his hand shaking.

"I got to go, Callie. I'd say it was nice seeing you but…" Troy went to the door.

"Troy Bolton! You know you love me! Admit it!" She dashed towards Troy leaned tried to kiss him.

"Sorry, Callie. But someone else already has my heart," Troy said, backing out the door.

Callie stood in disbelief as she wafted in Troy's Drakkar Noir cologne. She just lost her last chance to be with Troy Bolton and she couldn't believe it.

………….

………….

Troy ran down the halls of the hospital for the second time that week. He had driven as fast as he could to the hospital and almost crashed on the way there.

_This can't be happening_, Troy thought as he rushed passed everybody in the waiting rooms. _Not now. _

Owen and Chad were in Troy's apartment when Chad sensed something was wrong with Owen.

He checked Owen's blood sugar and it was fine. But then Chad's eyes fell upon something sitting on the table.

It was Chad's peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a small bite had been taken out of it but Chad hadn't touched it.

"Owen, did you eat Chad's sandwich?" He asked as calmly as he could, his voice still shaking.

Owen's eyes had welled with tears and he shook his head, "Uncle Chad, it _hurts_. I can't b-breathe!" Owen burst out crying and Chad rushed him to the car and straight to the hospital. Owen's face had paled a lot and his breath came out ragged and harsh. "Don't worry, Owen. I'll get you there on time."

It turned out Owen had gotten Troy's allergy of peanuts and now Owen was lying helplessly in a hospital bed, sleeping soundly.

Troy opened the door of his son's room and slipped inside. When Troy saw his son his mind emptied and he sat on the edge of the bed.

Feeling all the blood drain out of his face, Troy cried harder than he had ever cried before. Laying his head in his hands, Troy sniffled and watched a piece of paper fall out of his pocket.

He picked it up and unfolded it. What he saw made him sob even harder and he dropped the paper, clutching onto his four-year-old's limp body.

On the ground was the picture Owen drew, tear-stained and dirty. It was of a stick figure man holding his son's hand, both with wide smiles on their faces.

Written on the bottom in big, almost illegible handwriting were the words: I LOVE YOU DAD.

And Troy Bolton wept until he fell asleep on the bed with his son, hoping for a better tomorrow, pleading for it to come soon because he didn't know how long he could hold onto his life…

Looking into the room, Chad saw Troy sobbing over Owen's figure.

_And _that _is a great father_, Chad thought.

If only Troy had known this because it might have saved him from a horrible fate which he would soon meet up with.


	8. Chapter 8

As/n: Sorry this took so long… writer's block was nasty I tell you! Well, so was a lung problem, what we thought was some broken ribs (soccer is nasty when you're in the semi-finals) and strep throat! Oh! And a _lot _of school work.

**Chapter 8**

**A Final Good-bye**

Troy sat with tears running down his cheeks as he stopped in front of Chad and Taylor's house. It was two weeks later and Owen was finally out of the hospital. Owen was fast asleep in the backseat, snuggled up in a blanket n his car seat.

Troy looked at his son with watery eyes and a very unhappy thought. This would be his final good-bye.

He scooped Owen up, careful not to wake him and dug house keys out of his pocket. They were Chad and Taylor's extra keys. Troy always took care of their plants and pet goldfish, Herbie, when they left town.

Quickly and quietly, Troy walked up the front step and unlocked the door. He laid Owen on the red couch in the living room and kissed Owen on the cheek. His life was lying on that couch but Troy knew that he couldn't risk Owen's life again. The way Troy looked at it, he was an incompetent father and he couldn't be trusted with a child's welfare.

Troy placed a note on Chad and Taylor's counter explaining all that was going on and why his child was fast asleep on their sofa. It also had a check for a large sum of money. Troy wanted to pay for all of Owen's expenses.

Troy looked upon Owen's sleeping face. Owen was so young, he needed a father.

_A _good_ father, Troy. Don't think about taking him back._ Troy thought, feet rooted to the spot.

Owen looked so peaceful, so… different. Without the teddy bear at his side, Owen looked empty. Without _Troy _at his side, Owen looked alone. Troy considered taking Owen back and forgetting everything but he stopped. Owen needed a stable father and Troy knew he would never get that under Troy's roof.

He backed slowly out of the doorway and back to his car. Troy turned on the engine but stopped. The tears threatened to pour out of his eyes. Troy Bolton was in his car in the middle of the night, crying, all alone because the one boy he loved was gone. And Troy knew it was all his fault.

Troy drove away, eyes blurred; mind clouded, to escape the one thing that saved him.

His son.

**As/n: Sorry it's SOOOO short but we were suffering from writer's block (Well, CoCo was) so… yeah… ANYTHING was good enough for us! What will happen with Owen? Where is Troy going? Who knows (but us! HAHA!) R&R!**


	9. Chapter 9

As/n: It's the end of the fanfic! We hope you liked it! By the way, CoCo's literature teacher wants everyone in the class to work on detail. So please tell if you can picture what we're saying. R&R 

**Chapter 9**

Troy Bolton roamed the blackened ruins of his home. In the dark of the night Troy could still see his home, what _used _to be his home in the moonlight. His could picture his house, the way it was before the fire, before his big mistake. Troy decided to leave the city. Chad would have no way to give Owen back to him if he didn't know where he was.

His life seemed to have gone down with his home. His memories were as burned as the wood at his feet. Tears stung his eyes and he kicked the scorched wood. Ashes swirled above his head, causing him to cough and splutter. When the cloud faded away, Troy saw something glint in the pitch-black wreck. A silver speck was standing out in the dark.

Troy shifted the wood. A small fire blackened box was on the ground in front of him.

Troy lowered himself to the ground. He carefully flipped open the box.

Yellowing papers were lefts untouched inside. Troy shifted through the papers:

A very old copy of Breaking Free, a yellowing picture of the gang on Halloween, a torn newspaper article about East High's play and something that looked out of place… it was fairly new piece of paper. It was Gabriella's will. Troy could tell Gabriella wrote it out herself. Her delicate handwriting was written lightly across the paper. It was written before Caroline was born but after Owen was born. The paper wasn't as old as Troy thought.

_She thought she had more time. _Troy felt a lump rise in his throat.

Troy skimmed through the will. He saw various items being given to friends and family but one thing stuck out at him.

What I want if I die is my son, Owen, to be taken care of by Troy, the love of my life. I know that Troy will do everything in his power to take care of the little boy. Troy is a great father, no matter how many little mistakes he makes and no matter how many times he messes up. My dying wish would be for Owen and Troy to be together; for Troy to take care of his son and be the father he always wanted to be.

Troy looked at the crinkled paper. Gabriella didn't want Troy to give up. Owen was their son and their baby boy.

Troy stood up abruptly. He had somewhere to go.

_I have to find my son. _

Troy rushed to his car, mind on nothing but Owen. He stuck the keys in the ignition and pressed on the pedal.

Speeding, he went to Chad and Taylor's house. He parked crookedly in front of their house and rushed up to the doorway.

Not even bothering to knock, Troy burst into the house. No one was in the living room… or the kitchen… or the dining room.

Troy's anxious mind switched to worry. Did they leave? Tory knew one thing… he needed to see his son… he needed to see him _right then_.

"Hello?" Troy called. "Anyone home?"

He waited for a reply.

No answer.

Troy dashed up the stairs and to the second floor. Sure enough in the far end of the hall Taylor, Chad, Lizzie, and Matthew were outside of the guest bedroom. Lizzie and Matthew marched into the room across the hall, bored of what was going on. Troy stopped, not making a noise. He watched Taylor and Chad worriedly knock on the door.

"Owen, sweetie, you need to unlock the door," Taylor coaxed through the door.

"No!" Troy head Owen sob. "I want Daddy!"

"Daddy's… Daddy's not here, Owen. It's just Uncle Chad and Aunt Taylor," Chad soothed, one palm flat against the wooden the other on the brass door handle.

"Please, Owen. Please come out!" Taylor was hysterical. "Chad, this has got to cause his blood sugar to increase! We need to get him out of there!" Tears were cascading down her face.

"Maybe I could help," Troy offered quietly, walking down the hall.

"_Troy!_" Taylor sobbed. She pulled him into a hug. "Troy! We thought you had…"

"Don't you even do that again, Troy!" Chad said, smiling and pulled his friend into a hug.

They stopped hugging and a silence lingered in the air. Owen's bawling could be heard through the door.

"Owen isn't coming out until his daddy comes home," Chad said, grinning. "Stubborn as a mule… just like his father."

Troy leaned his face against the door.

"Owen," Troy soothed. "Owen, it's Daddy."

"Daddy?" Troy heard. Owen's sobbing withdrew.

"Yes, Owen. Daddy's home," Troy said quietly.

The lock clicked and the door inched open. Owen's shining face appeared in the crack.

"Daddy?" Owen asked, yet again. "Daddy!"

He opened the door as wide as it could go and jumped into Troy's arms.

"Daddy!" He screamed, starting to sob again. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

"Me, too, Owen. Me, too," Troy said, stroking Owen's sandy brown hair. Troy began to sway back and forth, something he learned from Gabriella. It always calmed Owen down. The whole hallway seemed echoed with silence. Only the sound of Owen's muffled sobs on Troy's chest broke the happy peace. Troy began to cry silently as he rubbed his son's back. Tears dripped down his cheeks and he carried his son into the bedroom.

That night Troy Bolton slept with his son.

That night, if Troy would've been asked why he had come back his answer would have been simple.

_Love._ Love brought Troy back to his son. Love helped Troy get through the hard times in his life. Love the thing that changed his life forever. Love… something he would never forget.

As Troy Bolton lay wide-awake on his back, his son cuddled at his side, he thought upon the events that unfolded that day. He didn't come back because he found that will. No, Troy Bolton came back for his son, for his little boy.

His life was different, that was for sure. He used to have a family of four, which had been so sadly reduced to two. He had a beautiful home that was now in ashes. He had a great job, which was now a job at a middle school where he hardly got paid at all. But Troy Bolton couldn't have loved his life any better.

Sure, he missed his wife and his daughter and _yes, _he wanted life back to normal but an unexamined life is not worth living, or so said a very smart book called the Socrates. Troy didn't want to live his life unexamined. He didn't want to live his life in pain and misery.

That night, Troy Bolton through his worries in the air and Troy Bolton realized…

Everything can change in the blink of an eye.

So live your life to it's fullest and don't ever look back. Youth guarantees nothing. Don't take that for granted. A life may be shattered by a loss of a friend; the loss of a loved one… but the person is never gone. They live within you… within your hearts. They soar in the heavens with no regrets on their minds and so should you… you should soar with you mind with no remorse because you have tried. If you try to live life to the fullest you should sleep with a smile on your face. You have given life all you can give that should be enough.

One blink is all you need to change a day… everything can change… in the blink of an eye.

**As/n: Well, that's the end. We hoped you liked it. Please… take what we said seriously. Life's too short to not do anything with it. (May you be forever happy, Daniel Heck). **


	10. Chapter 11

**As/n: This is the sequel to In the Blink of an Eye… everyone is older now… Owen is 17.**

**Chapter 1**

"Peanuts?" The flight attendant asked.

"No, thank you," Troy said. ""I don't mean to bother you," He added in a whisper for his son, Owen, age 17, was fast asleep on his shoulder. "My son had a very bad allergy to peanuts… would it be okay…"

The flight attendant nodded in understanding. She walked away and soon a voice came on the intercom:

"Would everyone in first class please kindly _not _open their peanuts? We have an allergy on board and we do not want to endanger the person. Thank you and enjoy the rest of the flight!"

Heather Evans, age 17, shot her bright blonde head up from her People Magazine, a soft smile spread across her face. Although this was no way laughing matter, she couldn't help but to out a small laugh. She could imagine the look of embarrassment spreading on her friend's face. On the contrary, Owen was still fast asleep on his father's shoulder having been up all night treating his diabetes.

Heather's smile faded. Owen's health was nothing to laugh about. On fact, Owen had come close to death on _numerous _occasion. If it wasn't his allergy it was his diabetes and if it wasn't his diabetes it was his newly discovered asthma. Owen sure had the bad side of things but that's what made him so likeable. He was always looking at the bright side.

Suddenly, Owen arose, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Troy laughed.

Heather's heart glowed at the sound of Troy's voice. Troy was possibly the world's greatest father. Although faced with the death of his wife and daughter, he always managed to stay strong and keep going. Much like her father, Ryan. But her mother, Emily, was still alive and she had no siblings of remembrance.

The gang may have been nine people but they acted as one. Heather couldn't remember the last time she had a peanut product or missed a debate meet. Sure, age played its part in the group, the youngest being four years old, but they stuck together and that's how it always had been.

"Heather," Troy asked. "Would you switch seats with me? I need to talk to your father."

Heather nodded and shut her magazine. She quickly shuffled across the aisle and plopped down in Troy's old seat.

"What'd you want to talk to me about?" Ryan asked, stuffing his book under his chair.

"Nothing," Troy sighed with a smile.

"Then why'd you say-," Ryan began.

"Heather was up all night with Owen and I. I think she deserves to talk to him a bit." Troy looked over at the laughing teenagers. "Besides, I might as well let my future daughter-in-law sit next to my son."

Ryan spit out his coffee.

"What?" He asked, wiping his coffee off of his face with his sleeve.

"Oh, come on, Ry," Troy said with a laugh. "It's only too obvious! …You aren't going to be the overprotective father, are you?"

"No… but… I mean, if I'm not… who will be?" Ryan asked, his mind on his ex-wife, Emily, who currently lived in Manhattan. She had left in hopes to cover her secrets… sadly those secrets were soon to be revealed.

"I wonder the same thing all the time," Troy said with a sad glance at his son.

…

"Okay, okay," Heather said between laughs. "You told them that diabetes was _contagious_? And they _believed_ you?"

"Yeah," Owen laughed. "The cheerleaders haven't bothered me since!"

Heather yawned, rubbing her bright blue eyes. The bags that circled them emphasized the point that she was exhausted.

"Thanks for staying up with me last night," Owen said, ceasing all laughter.

"It's fine," Heather said, waving her hand. "It was nothing!"

"No, it wasn't nothing," Owen said seriously, staring straight into her tired eyes. "If you hadn't found my stuff…" He shuddered slightly. "Thanks. I mean it."

Heather blushed, their faces now inches apart. She could smell the mixture of mint toothpaste, Drakkar Noir cologne (a gift from his father), and several medicines go through her nose. The smell would've been very odd to others but not Heather. No, this smell was home.

They were so close now that Owen could feel her heat pouring over him. He breathed in her strawberry shampoo and closed his eyes. Their lips were only inches away…

"Peanuts?" A flight attendant asked, offering a bag of half opened peanuts to them.

"Uh, no thanks," Owen said, scratching his neck, something he did when he was embarrassed.

"Didn't you hear the intercom announcement?" Heather asked, outraged.

"Oh, that person'll be fine!" The woman said, waving her hand at the matter. "It's not like he'll drop down dead if he eats one!"

"Yeah, he could drop down dead if he smells one!" Heather spat.

The attendant was getting frustrated now.

"Oh, what do you care?" She asked madly.

"I care plenty!" Heather shot at her.

"_You're _not going to die!" The woman said.

"Yeah, _I _am!" Owen said, angrily.

The woman looked form Owen to the peanuts and back at Owen.

"Oh, I-I uh- didn't know…"

"No one does," Owen said bitterly. "And no one cares either."

The woman shuffled away as quickly as she could.

"Gosh," Heather said, turning to Owen. "What jerks!"

"Heather," Owen said thickly, grasping at his chest. "The peanuts… were open…" He choked out with great difficulty.

Heather bolted out of her chair and opened the overhead compartment. Troy had seen this sensed the urgency of her actions. He helped her pull a black Northface backpack out of the compartment.

Troy stopped when he saw his son's pale face.

"What happened?" He asked, frozen in shock.

The urgency spread throughout the plane; everyone was staring now. Heather dove into the backpack and fetched the plastic bag of medicines: an inhaler, a finger prick, food in case he got low… no Epi-pen.

"The bag of peanuts was half open," Heather breathed, fishing through the bag.

Owen let out a thick cough, his eyes shut in pain.

"Dad," He moaned, clutching at his chest.

"Owen, keep breathing," Troy instructed, now searching frantically through the backpack.

"I can't," He gasped. "It hurts."

"Hold on!" Heather said, desperately.

"Somebody help!" Troy screamed.

The stewardesses rushed up, quickly seating Heather in an empty seat behind Owen.

"Sir," One said to Troy. "You need to sit down immediately. We'll handle this."

"That's my son!" Troy shouted. "I'm not just going to go sit down and do nothing!"

"Dad!" Owen gasped, air slicing through his teeth.

"Get out of my way!" Lily Baylor screamed, pushing her way through the crowd. She grabbed a bobby pin out of her hair and quickly bit off the plastic end.

Swiftly, she grabbed Owen's wrist. He let out a moan. Clenching her teeth, Lily poised the pin inches above his wrist. She had one shot to get this right. She lifted the pin higher and-

Right on target. Instantly, the blood stream opened up and Owen's breathing eased up.

A moment of silence followed then a scattered applause. Lily placed an evenly tanned hand (her father was black and her mother was white, her skin was genetics and it often made others jealous) on Owen's head.

"Good," She breathed and returned to her seat.

Owen's eyes remained closed, his chest slowly moving up and down.

"Thank God," Troy whispered. He kissed Owen on the forehead. Owen groaned. "Don't ever scare me like that again, you hear?" Troy said.

Owen nodded not opening his eyes. He laid his head back and breathed deeply. Troy returned to his seat next to Ryan.

Heather crept up behind Owen, tears brimming her blue eyes.

Owen slowly opened up one, brown, sleepy eye.

"Hey, you," He whispered hoarsely.

Heather's tears fell and she threw her tired body onto Owen's/ She put her sobbing head onto his chest.

"That was so scary," She whispered.

Owen laid a hand on her shaking head.

"I know," He returned in a whisper. "I know."

Soon, all of the anxiety had died down and everyone quietly returned to their seats. They went back to their previous activates as if nothing had happened. Troy, however, couldn't do that. For the rest of the trip, Troy didn't take his eyes off of Owen. He glanced in Owen's direction out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

Heather had fallen asleep on Owen's chest, Owen asleep with her, having pulled a blanket over them.

His breathing perfectly steady.

**As/n: Tell me what you think! I'm going to be busy this weekend though. I'm in a play on Sunday. … HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL! It's a group of all girls though so I have to be Troy but I don't mind. Troy rocks! Oh, and Pixie is Taylor! It's going to rock!!!! Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 12

**As/n: Hi, it's me again… next chapter. Some of the stuff in this story happened to my friend, Jackson and I. I thought I should credit him… Oh! Owen, yeah, he looks like Troy with dark brown hair and brown eyes. There are two twins in this story, Emmett and Charlie and then there's Luke. Enough with the rambling, on with the story!**

**Chapter 2**

Into the Creek 

After a week together, the group wasn't sick of each other. No, not yet. A week in New York for Thanksgiving break wasn't enough to keep them away from each other. This group was, as it has been mentioned, different. Not a person could be left out… especially on a trip to the park.

Owen bit his lip and stared into the distance. She was sitting in the grass, only a few feet away. They were so close. If he would just talk to her…

His sketchpad fell onto the frozen ground and papers spilt everywhere. He swore under his breath and picked them up, stuffing them into the bind, not taking his eyes off of her.

Why is it that, after 17 years of friendship, he could get tongue- tied with her? After 17 years just looking at her face made him forget his name. Why was that? He was in love.

"Owen!" Sharpay said loudly, her hair falling out of its perfect bun. She was separating Emmett and Charlie (whose actual name was Charlotte) were fighting with each other. "Will you please take Luke down to the creek? He's been dying to go- ouch, don't do that, you two- for a really long time and you know, Luke really seems to like you..."

Her tired eyes pleaded Owen. He was more than willing.

"Yeah, sure," He picked up his sketchpad and walked over to the four year old in the sand box. Owen picked Luke up and threw him over his shoulder. Luke seemed to always enjoy this game. He started to giggle crazily and Owen said, "Let's go to the creek now."

"Hey, Owen," Heather laughed from the grass. "Need some company?"

Owen gulped. He nervously shifted Luke onto his hip.

"Yeah, sure. Come on."

"Owen and Hevver sittin' in a twee!" Luke sang.

"Funny," Owen said. "Who taught you that one?"

Luke giggled, "Matthew."

"I think I need to talk to him."

They all trudged towards the creek silently. When they approached the bank they stopped in awe. The water was rushing through the bed peacefully. The serenity of the area seemed to calm everyone but Luke who was wiggling madly to get out of Owen's grasp but Owen stopped him before he fell to the ground.

"Luke, you are not allowed to go into the creek, okay?" Owen said, crouching down to Luke's eye level. "You have to stay in Heather and mine's sight. If you want to go anywhere, ask us, okay?"

"Okay," Luke said. You could plainly see that he adored Owen. They look in his eyes were clue enough. The only person he had ever really listened to was Owen. Not even his mom and dad could get him to calm down like Owen could. It was like Owen was the snake charmer and Luke was a cobra, mesmerized by him.

Luke dashed towards the water's edge but stopped and looked at Owen as if to say _Is this okay_?

"Oh. That's so cute!" A voice teased behind the. "A family on a stroll in the park!"

Owen and Heather spun around. A boy, roughly about their age, was staring at them. He was inches taller than Owen with honey blonde hair and bright blue, piercing eyes. His size only added to how handsome his features were.

Heather laughed.

"No!" She said. "You think-," Then she was overcome with laughter.

"We're just friends," Owen clarified.

Just then, Luke scrambled over and jumped into Owen's legs. Owen picked him up and placed him on his hip, brushing his bangs out of his face.

"Friends with a baby?" The boy inquired.

"What- no! No, no, no!" Heather said. "This is my cousin, Luke."

"Yeah. He's my dad's friend's son," Owen explained awkwardly.

"Oh, so you wouldn't mind if I gave her this?" The boy asked. He slipped a piece of paper into Heather's hand. "Call me sometime."

He winked and walked away, whistling a happy tune. Owen stared in silent disbelief after him. Heather stuffed the paper into her pocket and said, "Hmm… awkward."

"Yeah," Owen laughed. He plopped on the ground, Luke right next to him. Luke stuffed his pink thumb into his mouth and leaned his tired head against Owen's shoulder.

Heather walked to the banks edge. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. Heather sighed and looked at the slowly rushing water. Soon, she heard the scratch of a pencil and knew that Owen was at work with a new sketch. Owen loved art. It was a known fact about him. He carried his sketchpad everywhere. Once he started drawing, it was like he was in a world of his own; the lines just flew across the paper. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the scratching stopped.

"You done?" Heather asked, turning her head in Owen's direction.

"Yeah," Owen said, not taking his eyes off the water.

Heather came over and sat next to him. She slowly pulled her head over Owen's shoulder and she gasped.

It was as if someone had put a photograph of the river in his sketchpad. Every bend, every rock, every _ripple _was perfect but that was not what had made Heather gasp. It was a form on the bank. It was her: perfect, flawless… not a hair out of place.

"You didn't have to put me in the picture," She said embarrassed.

"I know," Owen smiled. "I wanted to."

"You know, that's really good," Heather said. "It's almost- oh my gosh! Owen, you're bleeding!"

Owen looked at the sleeve of his white button down shirt.

"Look at that!" He said happily. "I am!"

"Owen," Heather said. "What'd you do?"

"Probably just popped a stitch. It's noth-," He began.

"A stitch?" Heather asked. "When'd you get stitches? I've been with you _every day _and I didn't know you got stitches!"

"It was Saturday night, if that rings a bell," Owen said moodily, tossing a pebble into the water.

"Bell?" Luke asked. He had been obsessed with musical instruments lately, his favorite being the cowbell.

"No, Luke," Heather said absentmindedly. "Why are you so grumpy, Owen?"

"I'm not… grumpy," Owen said, playing with the grass at his feet.

"I was at a movie with Lizzie, you dork! It was a Saturday night! I- oh my God, Owen, I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

"No. It's fine," Owen said. "Really."

Heather pulled a WetWipe from her canvas bag and handed it to Owen.

"I mean, wow. I haven't forgotten since…"

"Last week?" Owen fake laughed. "It's no big deal, Heather."

Saturday night, for the past seven years had been game night for Owen and Heather. They played board games, watched movies, and ate food all night long, laughing their heads off at the stupid stories they told each other.

"What'd you do?" Heather asked.

Owen unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it off. He pressed the WetWipe to his arm where, indeed, six stitches were.

For a boy who did no physical activity (except for the occasional one-on-one basketball games against his dad), Owen was in great shape: a perfectly toned body, evenly muscled, even a tan on his abs that a girl would envy. It was odd, really, that Owen had ever found the time to get in shape. He was constantly getting sick and time to exercise didn't seem to fit into that unplanned schedule.

He winced and said, "I ran out of contacts and I couldn't find my glasses so I went to find my dad and flipped down the stairs."

"Owen, I'm really sorry," Heather said. "I've been busy and… oh, look… it's going to rain. We better get going home."

The sky had been mirroring Owen's mood for the past few hours: gray. Tall clouds billowed overhead. The water in the creek had started to move very quickly in effort to clear itself before the rain. Foaming waves crashed into the bank.

The rain began to pour instantly.

"Okay," Owen said, buttoning his shirt back up.

"Come on, Luke," Heather said. "Luke?"

Owen whirled around.

"Luke?"

Luke was missing.

………….

Owen scurried through the underbrush of the bank and ran up the slope. He was now twenty feet above the roaring water. His heart pounded. Heather ran behind.

"Luke!" He bellowed, hands cupped over his mouth. "Luke!"

Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

Heather stopped next to him. The water was rushing fast now, slamming against the sides, tumbling over rocks. It was now much deeper too, for the rain had given it power and mass. Something was unsettling about that creek. Something that made Owen and Heather's stomachs backflip.

Luke was being pulled through the creek.

Before anyone could even breathe, Owen dove into the water.

"_Owen!_" Heather shouted.

Owen hit the freezing water with a splash. His teeth chattered as he slowly made his way through the water. He grabbed the sobbing Luke around the waist, praising God that Luke hadn't drowned. Then he soothed, "It's going to be okay, Luke."

"Owen!" Luke screamed. He buried his head into Owen's shoulder.

Heather was on the bank now, five feet above the water. Owen slowly made it over there, asthma attack kicking in. The water was only a few inches below his neck now. He panicked. The undercurrent was pulling him down. He tumbled over and came out of the water, gasping for air. He only had one thought on his mind.

_Get Luke safe._

As fast as he could, Owen wadded over to the side. He was tossed and turned. He slammed into a huge rock in the water, cutting his side. He hardly felt this. The water had numbed his body.

Finally, he reached Heather. He put Luke into Heather's outstretched arms and grabbed onto the muddy back.

Heather put Luke was now crying harder than ever behind her. She turned around and the mud under Owen's feet let loose. He lost his footing and slipped. Heather dove and landed on her stomach. She grabbed Owen's mangled, dirty hand and said, "I won't let go!"

"I know," Owen said hoarsely.

He pulled his hand out from under hers and fell into the rushing water.

**As/n: Tell me what you think! A lot of drama in this chapter but the next one adds more. Okay, some people have asked if they can use my characters (Luke, Owen, Heather… all of the kids and Callie) That's fine but I would like to know (ask in a review) and I would like to be credited if that's okay. Some people have also asked: Is someone going to die? Okay, well, tragedy, as you have probably figured out, is my bestest friend so… probably. Who's going to die? Yeah, like I'd tell you! Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 13

**As/n: Told you… drama… here comes some more! What happens in this chapter, with the people, is something similar to what happened to my friend. But he was in Ohio.**

**Chapter 3**

**The Risk of Holding On**

_I had to let go._

That was the thought he had when he hit the water.

Owen knew the risks of falling. He knew the risks of water. He also knew, the risk of holding on. Owen knew he was bigger than Heather. She could have never held her own weight plus Owen's. He wouldn't risk her life. That was the risk of holding on.

Owen got pulled under the water and came up gulping it down in a desperate attempt to breath. He spluttered and tried to push his way to the side. The water had moved him down the creek. He was thrown recklessly from side to side. Suddenly, he stopped. His pant leg got caught on a tree that had fallen in the water.

Owen got pulled once again under the water; this time with no freedom. He couldn't pull himself up. Owen tugged on his pant leg in a fruitless endeavor to get it free. His head was screaming in pain, his heartbeat quickened. His lungs were about to burst. One last tug and Owen's pant leg ripped. He felt a sharp pain in his almost numbed leg as the branch sliced through the skin. Owen surfaced the water, gulping down air as if it was an old friend, not seen for ages.

He had a feeling; one a boy with his health had felt many times before. A feeling of despair, a feeling of hopelessness… those feelings rushed over his body with the freezing water. He felt the undercurrent pulling on his feet. He knew what he had to do.

He had to let go.

Owen let the water rush over him He let it soak his skin. He let it take over.

Owen Bolton had known the risk of letting go.

………….

"Owen!" Heather shouted when she saw Owen go under the water and not return. She was crying loudly. This was all her fault. She should of held on tighter. She could've pulled Owen up.

A sudden thought came to her mind.

She _couldn't've _pulled Owen up. She wasn't strong enough. Heather realized that she would've gone in the water with him and Luke would've been sitting alone on the bank, with no one to help him.

Owen had let go to save her. He had let go for love. Heather let go. She let go of her feelings for everything.

Owen was gone and she had to do one thing.

She had to let go.

A new wave of tears fell at this thought. Heather tilted her head back and let the tears mix with the rain let her feelings drift away. Because Heather Evans knew…

The risk of holding on.

She looked over at the water where she had last seen the boy she had loved but again she saw him. His body was thrust onto the shore. Suddenly, she forgot to let go, she gathered Luke in her arms, and she ran to him.

Heather collapsed on her knees next to his lifeless form. Her tears fell on his chest. She bent down and lightly kissed his lips.

"I'll never forget you," She whispered.

Owen's body moved slightly and Heather sobbed. Unexpectedly, Owen coughed and water poured out of his lungs and onto the ground. Heather was in shock. She didn't move. Owen's body relaxed and whispered, "I'll never forget you either."

"Owen!" Heather screamed, hugging him tightly.

He moaned. "That hurts."

"We need to get you to a hospital!" Heather said, letting go of him.

"I don't need a hospital. I need my dad. You need to get him, Heather," Owen said, painfully pulling himself off the ground.

Then, figures appeared next to them. Owen shakily got to his feet. He held back his winces, for the pain was all too much. Then he stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat. He knew these guys. He'd dealt with them before.

"Heather," Owen said. "Go and get help. Now!"

"You're coming with me," Heather said defiantly.

"Heather, there's no time to argue. Go!"

"Trying to protect your girlfriend, Bolton?" The biggest figure said. His face was shrouded in darkness, as were the others. It was impossible to tell who they were.

"I'm not his girlfriend," Heather said quickly. Luke was oddly quiet, the trauma of the water having gotten to him.

"Heather…"

The group circled closer and Owen shouted, "Heather, get out of here!"

Something in his voice told Heather that this was bad. Then, she knew why. The glint of a switchblade in the darkness told her all she needed to know. She ran towards home, Luke in her arms, Owen to defend himself.

…………

"That was a bad mistake," A figure said. The others chuckled and circled closer. One grabbed his arms and roughly stuffed them behind his back. Owen let out a cry of pain but this only seemed to make them more satisfied.

"We don't want much," The main figure, Max, said, swinging the switchblade dangerously close to Owen's neck. Owen pulled back in fear. "Just some money."

"I don't have any," Owen said through gritted teeth. His side, his arm, his leg, and his head hurt from his near death experience. He didn't know how much longer he would stand on his own.

"Empty your pockets," Max said with a superior smirk.

"I would but my arms are pinned to my back," Owen said bored.

Max held the switchblade right up to Owen's neck, slicing a fraction into the skin. Owen gasped, letting air slice through his clenched teeth.

"We met before, Bolton," Max said. "And you know too much."

He raised the blade and sliced it through the air. Dead silence surrounded them as it came down a mere inches above his heart.

Owen let out a loud cry of pain and collapsed to the ground.

"Let go of him!" A familiar voice said.

Owen knew it only too well.

"So long, Bolton," Max whispered menacingly. He and the rest of the gang scrambled away, tripping over themselves, laughing.

"Owen!" The voice rang clear across the park but it sounded so distant.

"Dad?" Owen asked.

"Owen… oh, God… Owen."

Troy scooped Owen into his arms (his old basketball muscles not gone to waste) and carried him to the car. He gently laid Owen in the backseat and got in the front. He pulled his seatbelt on and sped to the hospital. Halfway there, Owen spoke.

"Are Heather and Luke okay?" Owen asked, eyes still shut.

"Yeah, they're fine. I'm more concerned about you," Troy said. "Don't talk and just keep-keep breathing."

A long silence followed and Owen disobeyed his father's command by saying, "I'm sorry."

Troy was about to reply when he heard the wail of a police siren. He swore under his breath and pulled to the side of the road.

A police officer walked up and said, "Sir, do you realize you where going 85 miles per hour in a 60 mile speed zone?"

"Can this wait?" Troy asked impatiently.

"Pardon?"

"Look in the back and then go," Troy said.

The police officer looked as if he was going to reply but kept his mouth shut. He opened the back door of the car.

"Hey," Owen said weakly.

"Oh, God. You need to take this kid to a hospital!" The officer exclaimed.

"We were going to see a movie first," Owen explained sarcastically.

"I'll give you an escort," The officer said.

"Thought so," Troy muttered, pressing the gas pedal again.

They were at the hospital in a matter of minutes and what seemed like hours later a nurse walked into the waiting room and said, "Mr. Bolton, the doctor said you can see him now."

Troy bolted into Owen's room. He was in bad shape. Immediately, Troy was given six stitches in his arm, 12 in his leg, nine in his side, and 24 on his chest, he had lost a lot of blood. He could barely move because of his three broken ribs that he had also suffered from in the water.

"Hey, Dad," Owen said, not even opening his tired eyes.

"How you feeling?" Troy said, sitting on the end of Owen's bed.

"Just peachy," Owen said, with a groan as he tried to shift on his pillows.

"The police want to talk to you. They think that I'm not being truthful," Troy said, scratching his head.

"Truthful about what?" Owen asked.

"They think there's a possibility it was me," Troy said.

"No way!" Owen said with a laugh. "Yeah. You stabbed me, Dad."

"Don't even joke about that, Owen," Troy said. "I'll be in huge trouble if someone heard that."

"No ones here," Owen said, looking around the very white room.

"Oh, you're mistaken there!" Troy said.

"Huh?"

Troy walked to the door and Matthew, Katherine, Lizzie, and Heather collapsed onto the floor at his feet. They had been listening to the entire conversation. They gave a nervous laugh and brushed themselves off. The nurses looked in and laughed too. They had had many teenagers do this apparently.

Everyone piled into the room: parents, teenagers, kids, toddlers.

"Hey, Owen," Taylor said. "How are you doing?"

"Great!" Owen said. "Yeah, they said the stitches will be out in a couple of weeks and my ribs should be healed in no time!"

At this, Sharpay let out a loud sob.

"Oh, Owen!" Sharpay said loudly. "I can't thank you enough! I owe you my life! If you hadn't gotten Luke out of the water…"

"Sharpay, don't mention it!" Owen said. "I mean, come on, anyone would've done it!"

"No, Owen," Matthew said. "No one else is stupid enough to jump into a rushing river without caring about dying or not."

"And no one would try to get others free without thinking about themselves and the consequences that would go with it," Lizzie pointed out.

"And get stabbed in the process," Katherine added, shrugging her shoulders.

"Only you, Owen, could do those things… only you could get in that much trouble," Lily laughed.

"It's a gift," Owen said, rather confused.

Owen heard a whimper below him so he looked down and saw a blonde head with a pair of bright brown eyes staring up at him. Zeke had his hands placed on his son's head and he said, "Luke has something he wants to say to you."

Luke scrambled up on Owen's bed and buried his pink face into Owen's chest. This hurt quite badly but Owen said nothing. The poor little kid had no idea.

"Thank you, Owen," Luke's muffled voice came up from his chest.

"No problem, Luke," Owen said, ruffling his hair. Owen took his index finger and lifted Luke's chin up to stare him in the eyes. "Any time."

"But, Owen?" Luke asked, tears streaming down his face.

"Yeah?"

"No more creek."

**As/n: I told you, more drama. Tell me what you thought! I'd really appreciate it. I'm such a moocher but--- please read our other stories!!! Thanks! The next chapter is going to be great! I promise! There will be a lot more of one of my favorite characters (to write about)! Tell me what you think is going to happen! (even in the trilogy… I thought the plot up on the bus home from my field trip today!!! Thanks, CoCo.**


	13. Chapter 14

**As/n: This'll probably be my favorite chapter!!! HURRY UP AND READ PLEASE! (Oh, and review!)**

**Chapter 4**

**Clark Who?**

Owen rushed up to the bus stop, flinging his backpack over his shoulder. He skidded to a halt and swore, thinking he had missed the bus.

"Watch that language, Owen!" Matthew teased, skating up behind him.

"Matthew!" Owen exclaimed. "I missed the bus!" He fished his inhaler out of his backpack and took a puff.

"No, Owen, we're early," Matthew said, picking his skateboard off the ground. "Five minutes early."

"Oh, well, I guess that makes sense, considering the bus isn't here," Owen said, scratching his neck. "Where's Lizzie?"

"She's been in the bathroom for twenty minutes figuring out which top goes best with her new eye shadow. I left her," Matthew explained.

Owen laughed and said, "Nice, Matt!"

"Sisters can be such a pain, you know?" Matthew groaned.

"Actually, I wouldn't know that feeling," Owen said, looking towards the end of the street.

"I- uh- no! I didn't mean it like that," Matthew stuttered. "I was just…"

"Don't worry about it," Owen said, still looking at the horizon line.

"I'm serious, O. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Would you just drop it?" Owen snapped, looking Matthew in the eyes. Looking at the hurt look on Matthew's face, he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get short. I forgot to take my painkillers this morning and…" Owen stopped. "I had a long night."

"Diabetes?" Matthew asked.

"Not exactly…"

It was the reoccurring dream. It never seemed to want to go away. There was a house. It wasn't recognizable to Owen. It was slowly getting hotter and hotter and it scared Owen. He reached for the doorknob to his room and screamed loudly as the metal had heated up. A large burn was streaked across his outstretched hand. Then he screamed, "Dad!" and he started to cry. He soon realized that the house was steadily burning to the ground.

This dream was different though. Troy had rushed into the room and pushed Owen out of the house, same as always but this time, but when Owen turned and looked at his house, his father was engulfed by the blaze. "Dad!" he screamed again. But it was no use. His dad never came back out.

……………………………….

"Owen!" Troy shouted loudly, waking him up. "Are you okay? You were screaming like crazy."

Owen shook his head, swallowing hard. "No, Dad," He answered. "I had the dream again."

Troy leaned heavily against the doorframe. "Owen…" He said softly. Troy slowly made his way to the bed and sat down, pulling his arm around his son. "It was bad this time, wasn't it?"

Owen nodded his head and started to cry. It was never that bad. The worst he had ever had it was when his mother came and saved him. But in the end of the dream she came out alive.

Troy pulled his son into his arms and said, "What happened?"

Owen's teary brown eyes met with Troy's concerned blue ones. He looked away and said, "Nothing."

………………………………..

"Hey, look," Matthew said. "New kid and _new kid's mom_. Wow! How old is she?" Matthew asked, looking at the woman who was accompanying the young man heading towards them.

"Why do I know her?" Owen asked, standing next to his friend. He had seen this woman before. He knew it. He couldn't place her name or her son. As soon as her sparkling high heels showed up in front of Owen it hit him.

"Hi, I'm Callie Greensburg and this is my son Clark," She said.

………………………………

"So how's your dad been doing?" Callie asked.

She was walking around the school with Owen. The bus had picked them up and Callie drove behind it to East High. Owen was shaking in the car ride.

_That _is Callie Greensburg.

He couldn't get it through his head. He was exceptionally smart but this made no sense to him. Callie Greensburg, _the _Callie Greensburg, had a son who was going to East High. She had a son. That didn't make sense. He was 17 years old. When she had last seen Troy she had no kids. It didn't add up.

Owen, though, knew the son, Clark. He just had an odd feeling of familiarly. Something in his head clicked. Clark and the boy in the park looked unusually alike. It was Clark who had given Heather his phone number. It was Clark that had mistaken Owen for Luke's father.

"He's good," Owen said. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you are too cute," Heather said. "I've been great. I got a modeling job and I moved back here to Albuquerque."

Owen would've been embarrassed if anyone was around. But Matthew had been flipped off of his skateboard and was at the nurse with Clark. Owen laughed slightly at this. It was obvious that even before they started to talk, Clark and Matthew were not going to get along well.

"So, how long have you been here?" Owen asked, searching the halls for a familiar face. None. Of course, he led them into the freshman's hall. He wouldn't know anyone.

"We've been here for five days," Callie said. "It was a bad time though because as soon as we settled in we found out a boy had been stabbed at the park down the road. I was worried because I didn't want Clark to get into any trouble."

Owen nervously pulled his shirt over the bandages on his body.

"So, has East High changed since I came here?" Callie asked, taking a deep breath as if she could smell the old memories in the halls.

"Um… depends really," Owen said. "Did East High have nasty cafeteria food, cranky teachers, and evil cheerleaders?"

Callie laughed. "Owen, you are the most charming boy ever!"

Owen fake laughed and brought Callie towards the gym. "This is the gym. A little renovation has happened since you came though. It's larger and there new locker rooms down the hall."

Callie nodded, looking at Owen's face. She seemed like she was barely paying attention. She probably wasn't, Owen thought, after hearing the stories Dad's told, she doesn't seem like a one to have a long attention span.

"Speaking of the gym," Callie said, twirling her honey blonde hair around her finger, "Does your dad still play basketball? As I recall he was great in his day."

"Yeah, he and I play a little together," Owen said. "But he teaches here now as a music teacher."

"Music teacher?" Callie said. "Oh! I remember! He tried out for the musical that one year. I have to say; I remember his basketball skills better than his acting skills. Ha! Well, actually, the girl he was with was the worst actress I had seen. She almost fell off the stage trying to do a pirouette!"

Owen's fists balled together and he said through gritted teeth, "Actually, a cheerleader almost pushed her off the stage trying to get to the front."

It was true, Callie was in a big dance number and had tried to push Gabriella off the stage in the middle of it. Of course, this was a rehearsal but it had left Gabriella with a bad sprain on her right ankle. Callie filled in until she was better and as Troy had put it, "Her singing sounded like a cat was dying."

Callie blushed and pretended she had no idea what he was talking about. She turned down the hall and saw the principal's office. "Oh well, here's my stop. Thanks, Owen. You were a great help."

She turned and opened the glass door. Callie stopped and said, "Oh, I was wondering, I need some help getting all the stuff unpacked. You seem strong." She looked at Owen's semi-muscular arms and smiled, saying, "Would you come by and help?"

Owen's mouth opened to reply but Callie beat him to the point, "Great! Thanks! We live at 486 Bluehill Drive. See you there!" She winked and walked into the office.

……………………………….

"Heather," Owen whined as he approached her locker.

"What is it, Whiny?" She asked, throwing a textbook carelessly into her backpack.

"I don't want to go load boxes into Callie's house," He said, groaned, leaned against the locker next to Heather's.

"Callie's?" Heather asked. "_The _Callie?"

"The one and only," Owen moaned and he hit his head against the locker door. He retold the story to Heather with as little detail as possible… especially leaving out the wink. He found that wink creepy beyond words. "She seems to think I'm strong," He finished up.

"You did carry Lizzie up two flights of stairs," Heather reminded him, throwing another book into her backpack.

"Yeah but…"

"And you carried Emmett _and_ Charlie into their room _at the same time_," Heather said, shutting her locker.

"But they were five," Owen defended. "Great, it's time for class. I'm going to tell Dad I can't make it after school today. You want to come?"

"I have French with The Cohn," Heather said, referring to her French teacher, Madame Cohn, as the nickname Owen had given her after listening to Heather's stories about her.

"Have fun!" Owen laughed as she walked down the hall.

"Don't worry," Heather called over her shoulder. "I won't!"

……………………………….

Owen stepped into the freshman's homeroom, or Troy's classroom. Every face was on him. He was used to this. The entire freshman year knew him as "Mr. Bolton's Son" or "O". But when Owen stepped up to his dad's desk, he found it not only occupied by his father but with Callie as well.

"Owen!" Troy said, sounding a little too relieved. "This is…"

"We've already met," Callie said coyly. "He's quite the gentleman."

"Thanks," Owen said nervously. "Um… Dad, I'm not going to be home right after school…"

"Yeah," Troy said. "Callie just told me."

Callie looked at Owen and winked. Her back to was to Troy so Troy mouthed, "I'm sorry!" Owen nodded and said, "Okay, well, off to English. Later, Dad."

"Later, Owen," Troy said. "Class, what do we say to Owen?"

"Later, Owen!" They chanted with a laugh. Troy was notorious for being the best teacher in the school (along with Ryan who was Drama teacher.) because he was fun and upbeat.

Owen waved to everyone and proceeded to first period.

It was in fourth period when something weird happened.

"Owen!" Clark called. "Where you going?"

"Gym class," Owen said, turning at the end of the hall.

"Hey! I have gym right now, too," Clark said, checking his schedule.

"Joy," Owen mumbled under his breath.

"Can I come with you?"

"Yeah, it's right here," Owen said, pointing at the door that led to the locker rooms.

Owen was greeted with his usual "Yo's" and "Sup's" as he entered the locker room. He nodded his hello back and headed to his locker.

"So, O," Matthew said, pulling his gym shirt over his head. "You want to team up?"

"Yeah," Owen said, "Lemme grab my inhaler though."

A muffled snort came from behind Owen.

"Sorry?" Owen said, turning to Clark.

"Nothing," Clark said. "It's just… I wouldn't have guessed you had asthma."

"Yeah, because when you look at someone, it's so obvious," Matthew mumbled loud enough for Clark to hear.

"No! I mean, like, I saw you running yesterday past my house so I assumed…" Clark's voice trailed off.

"Sure," Owen said, like he understood Clark's stupidity.

He pulled his tee shirt over his head and heard many gasps. He whirled around and looked at all his classmates.

"What?" He asked. No one said a word. Not even Matthew. Clark sniggered but Owen ignored it. He looked down.

He still had a bandage wrapped around his shoulder, arm, and a long one around his stomach to keep his stitches clean.

"Oh, that," Owen said. "No big deal." He couldn't find his shirt so he pulled on his gym shorts. Then he cursed himself in his mind, for a bandage was wrapped around his leg.

"What'd you do?" Mark Yuan, a boy in Owen's Literature class, asked.

"He's just klutzy," Matthew covered for him.

"Got that right," Clark laughed.

"Okay, one more joke from you and you'll look worse than Owen!" Matthew said, turning to Clark.

Clark shied to the wall of lockers and remained quiet. Owen sniggered quietly and said, "Thanks."

"You do look pretty bad, O," Tony Wallbreen said.

"I'm fine," Owen assured him. "Clark, you should probably get your stuff on."

Everyone was still staring at Owen and he realized he still didn't have a shirt on. He rummaged through his locker and pulled it over his head.

"Happy now?" He asked.

Although irrelevant to the story, Troy stood at that same spot so many years ago and said those exact words. Odd though, Owen was almost nothing like his father. He father probably wouldn't have down the following:

"It's a wonder that Heather girl likes you," Clark laughed, opening his locker. "You're such a klutz."

"Excuse me?" Owen asked, pulling his unlaced shoe off the bench behind him. He stuffed them on his feet and looked at Clark.

"I mean, how can a girl as hot as that like a guy that's as big of a loser as you?" Clark asked, laughing again.

"Don't talk about Heather like that, Clark. You have no idea what you're talking about," Owen said.

"Oh, defensive. Sounds to me like you like this girl," Clark said, throwing a shirt over his head.

"Sounds like you need to back off," Owen snapped.

"Oh, touchy, too!" Clark said, lacing his shoes. "You're kind of a klutz, dude. I mean, come on. Who can hurt themselves _that _badly?"

Clark stood up and smoothed his wrinkled shirt.

"And you think that that girl can honestly like you?" Clark asked. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Just because she's hot doesn't mean she's not brain damaged."

Owen, before he knew what he was doing, punched Clark right in the jaw.

Clark staggered backwards, clutching his face. All eyes were on Owen and Clark now. Some chuckled, some gasped, some even cheered.

"I don't know about her," Owen said. "But I think you might be a little brain damaged now."

He turned to walk away and he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder. Owen winced, that having been his bad shoulder. He was thrust around and punched in chest. Hard.

A dull crack was hard as Owen stumbled into Matthew. His body went slack and he fell a fraction but was caught by Matthew before he hit the ground.

Clark laughed. "And I don't know about you, but I think I won that."

Matthew lowered Owen onto a bench, Owen grasping his chest.

"God," Owen said with a smile. "I think you re-broke my rib."

Clark stopped dead in his tracks, as he was planning to leave the locker room. He faced Owen and spat, "Come again?"

"Yeah," Owen laughed, pulling himself up with pain. "I broke three ribs this weekend saving that 'hot' girl and her cousin!"

Clark's face burned.

"Yeah right!" He laughed falsely.

"No, it's true," Owen said happily, pulling himself onto his feet. "Yeah, Luke, you remember him, he fell into the creek and I helped him out. But, funny thing is," Owen said with a laugh, stepping closer to Clark. "As I was leaving I got stabbed! Funny, huh?"

"D-don't make excuses, Bolton!" Clark snarled nervously. It was cool when he had just punched Owen but when Owen had heroically saved his friend and cousin, it seemed worse. Much worse.

"Excuses?" Owen asked with a loud laugh. "Do you want proof or something?"

"Owen…" Matthew tried to warn.

"Oh, Matthew, no one cares," Clark said. "No one will _ever _care about Owen Bolton!"

A silence rippled throughout the locker room. Owen's smile faded a bit.

"I mean, come on," Clark said to the class of boys, watching intently. "His mother doesn't even want him!"

The silence seemed, as if it was possible, to get more quiet. Owen stepped up to Clark and said, "Don't say anything if you don't know what the hell you're talking about."

He staggered out of the locker rooms, letting the door slam behind him.

**As/n: So Callie's back! With a little booger of a son! More to come! Please R&R! Sorry for the swear word if you find it offending in anyway. It was the only way to have the line really… I don't know… mean something. Go Owen! Go Owen! (Sorry, I hate Clark. He's such a jerk… and he'll be back. With revenge!)**


	14. Chapter 15

**Chapter 5 **

**From Inside the Closet**

It was lunchtime and the whole group of Heather, Owen, Matthew, Lizzie, and Katherine were sitting at their usual lunch table. Food scattered the table, which was usual. Instead of bringing their own lunches, all of them brought food and threw it in the middle of the table for everyone to eat.

Owen, however, hadn't touched a scrap of food. He was absentmindedly flicking pretzels at Matthew, who didn't even notice the little food bullets.

"You okay, O?" Katherine asked, munching down on a carrot. "You look a little glum."

"No," Owen said. "I don't want any gum."

"What?" Lizzie asked.

"O," Matthew said. "Snap out of it!"

"Sorry," Owen sighed. "I'm full," he announced.

"Yeah, those three Skittles looked filling," Heather said. "What's up?"

"He acts like my mom chose to die," Owen said, looking up at everyone. "He acts like she chose to leave."

"What Clark said was wrong, Owen," Lizzie said, abandoning her yogurt. "What he did was wrong. We know that."

"Yeah, Owen, don't beat yourself up about this," Katherine said.

"Even though you gave a really good punch," Matthew said, which earned him a slap on the shoulder from Katherine and Heather, who were on both sides of him.

"What was the fight about anyway?" Heather asked.

"Nothing," Owen said, throwing a plastic spoon that went skidding across the table and into Matthew's lap.

"What'd the nurse say?" Lizzie asked, trying to draw the subject away from the reason for the fight.

"Nurse?" Owen asked, picking his head up.

"You didn't go to the nurse?" Katherine asked, taking a bite out of Lizzie's yogurt.

"Should I have?" Owen asked, confused. Matthew sighed.

"He broke your rib, O," Matthew said. "What do you think?"

"_Re-_broke," Owen corrected.

The table went silent, the only noise heard was the noisy slurping of Matthew as he chugged down a Mountain Dew.

It was Friday and Owen was still in a depressed slump. He hardly talked, he hardly ate, and he never slept. Although he did laugh loudly when Clark fell down in the cafeteria and spilt food all over himself, he never even showed a happy emotion.

It was five minutes before school started and Owen decided to go to his locker and grab his sketchbook. But before he got it he took a detour to Heather's locker. Owen waltzed over to Heather, who was talking to a boy Owen couldn't recognize. His back was to Owen, Heather's face was contorted into a look of pure annoyance.

"For the seventh time this week!" Heather said loudly. "No!"

"It's about _him, _isn't it?" The boy asked.

"Maybe it is, Clark, but no matter what happens, I don't want to date you," Heather said, roughly thrusting books into her locker.

"Clark?" Owen asked himself with a laugh.

Clark did something surprising, assuming that he and Heather were the only ones in the hall, he grabbed Heather's shoulder and said, "Let go of that loser!"

Heather tried to pull out of his strong grasp but couldn't.

"Let go of me, Clark!" She said loudly.

"Come on, Evans!" Clark said. "One date!"

"No!" Heather said, pulling at his hand. She winced as Clark tightened his grip.

"Let go!" Owen shouted, grabbing Clark by the shoulder and tugging him back.

Clark made a noise of rage and said, "Stay out of this, Bolton!"

"Let go of Heather, Clark," Owen snarled.

Clark lifted his palms in the air as in surrender and Heather backed away slowly and watched Owen with a terrified expression.

Clark swung his hand around and hit Owen hard across the chest. Owen let out a shout of surprise and slammed against the lockers.

"Why don't you just mind your own business?" Clark asked, his face inches from Owen's.

"Why don't you brush your teeth?" Owen asked sarcastically. Clark pushed Owen's head into the locker door and shouted, "Get away from me!"

"I would," Owen said, grimacing and rubbing the back of his head. "But you'd have to let go of me before I could move."

Clark did let go of his shoulder but instead of walking away he punched at Owen who quickly dodged the blow. Clark's fist hit the metal locker with an echoing clang but Owen looked closely at the door and saw that the metal had merely crumpled under Clark's fist.

Heather watched horrified and then the bell rang and everyone appeared from outside. Clark backed away from Owen and said, "I'll deal with you later." Before disappearing into the crowd.

"Oh my God, Owen," Heather said, rushing up to him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Owen said, rubbing his head. "Hmm… that was interesting."

"We should tell the principal or something!" Heather said, circling Owen.

"No," Owen said. "Let him go and what-what the _heck _are you doing?"

Heather stopped circling Owen.

"I was seeing if you're hurt," Heather said.

"You were circling me like a vulture, Heather," Owen said laughing.

"I'm just making sure!" Heather defended, laughing along.

"Yeah, making sure I'm dead before you dig your giant talons into me, Vulture Lady," Owen teased, quickly stuffing his hand into his pocket.

"Owen," Heather said. "I saw that!"

"Saw what?" Owen asked innocently.

"Take your hand out of your pocket," Heather said, taking Owen's forearm and trying to force it out of the pocket. "Owen! Stop it!"

Owen smiled, knowing that he was too strong for Heather. She kept tugging his arm and in the end Owen slackened his arm and she tugged his up so fast that it came out of the pocket it was hiding in beforehand and smashed her in the face.

"Heather!" Owen said when she staggered backwards. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

Heather's shoulders shook. She was crying.

"Oh my God, Heather," Owen said, wrapping his arms around her. Just as suddenly as the sobs had started they stopped and Heather wrenched Owen's hand toward her face.

"Ew," She said, looking upon it. "Very CSI: Miami."

The hand was smeared completely in crimson blood. Owen's head had been cut open and when he rubbed it, the blood came on his palm.

"Maybe you and I should join the cast," Owen said, walking over to the drinking fountain, Heather breathing down his neck.

"You going to the nurse?" She asked.

"What for a cut?" Owen asked, letting the water flow over his hand. He watched the warm red water flow down the drain and said. "No. It's fine. Just a little blood."

It was the end of the day, the bell had just rung. Everyone scrambled out of his or her seats and out their classroom door. The familiar sound of locker slams and excited chattering filled the hall as Owen walked down its tiled floors and stared at its old fluorescent lighting fixtures. He stared upon a blank wall that held a sign on it that read, in an untidy scrawl, "To Be Finished!"

This blank, white wall was Owen's masterpiece. He and a couple of other's in the Art Club were painting a mural on this wall. It was to be huge and colorful and it had to incorporate school life. It's was Owen's idea that was going to be plastered on that wall.

"East High Unity" was the title. People from all cliques were going to be on the wall, joining hands, as words from the senior class adorned the background. Owen sighed happily as he looked at this white slab of nothing and suddenly felt himself being wrenched off of his feet.

A hand was clamped over his mouth and he was brought into a small janitors closet.

"What's the deal?" Owen asked when the person let go of him. Of course, as you probably guessed, Clark was the culprit. He smiled evilly and said, "The deal is… you stay in here… I go on a date with Evans! …I like it!"

Owen laughed, "I don't!"

"Oh," Clark said with a look of sincerity on his face. "Too bad!"

He pushed Owen deeper in the closet and backed out the door, with a sense of dread Owen heard the lock click on the outside.

Owen rushed up to the door and banged his fist on it, screaming, "Get me out of here! Hello! Someone?"

The hallway was too loud for anyone to hear him and everyone was too busy making plans to notice Clark slip out the door and lock it. Owen hit the door harder. He slumped against it as he heard all the noise fade. Everyone was leaving for the weekend. Everyone but him.

"Greensburg!" Matthew yelled after Clark, who just exited the building. "You seen Owen?"

"Why would I care?" Clark asked, pulling car keys out of his pocket.

"Where is he, Clark?" Matthew asked, stepping in front of him.

"Look, a) I don't know," Clark said. " B) I don't care, and 3.) Get out of my face!"

He shoved past Matthew and opened his car door. He got inside, slammed the door, and drove away.

"Three doesn't come after B!" Matthew shouted loudly after him. He kicked the trashcan next to him in frustration.

"Cool it," One kid yelled and all of his friends laughed.

"He's probably painting that mural thing," Matthew said, looking at the doors of the school that the janitor was closing. "Yeah. Probably."

Matthew shook his head and started home.

Meanwhile, Owen was shoving all his body weight against the door in a desperate attempt to free himself. It was no use. He had tried. The lights in the hall had gone off and the entire school seemed void of life. He slumped against the door and muttered, "Great. Now how are you going to get home?"

He waited for what seemed like hours. To pass time, Owen paced, sat in a cleaning bucket, threw himself against the door, even sat in a chair upside down. Suddenly, Owen felt sick. Shaking, he lowered himself to the ground. He fished in his jacket pocket for his finger prick. It wasn't there. Neither was his inhaler. Owen stuck his hand deeper in the pocket and inspected it. His entire fist fit through the hole that had formed there. He swore and took deep shaking breaths and then…

It all went black.

Ryan Evans aimlessly wandered the halls of East High. He had stayed late that night so he could watch videos of his students for class. It was now 9:37 PM and he was finished and heading towards his car. He felt himself getting pulled in the opposite direction though. It was as if his mind said one thing, his feet did another. He showed up in the Junior hallway. Ryan saw a light on at the end of the hall so he followed it.

_I see a light,_ Ryan thought, laughing at his own joke.

He reached the end of the hallway and found the light coming from the janitor's closet. He noticed that the door was locked so he slowly undid the bolt. Ryan opened the door a sliver and wedged his hand in, flipping off the light. He was about to shut the door again but he stopped. Huddled against the wall, was a darkened figure. Light flooded into the closet as Ryan wrenched it open.

Owen tiredly lifted his head and whispered, "Ryan."

Ryan scrambled into his pocket and fished out his cell phone. His skilled fingers dialed 911 as he lowered himself onto the floor and checked Owen's pulse. Ryan panicked when it hardly felt the beat on his finger.

"We need an ambulance at East High _now_," Ryan said to the operator that answered the phone. That was all he said then he hung up. Within minutes an ambulance was wailing outside the building. Ryan whispered, "I'll be right back," and he turned to the door.

"Hang in there, Owen," He said and rushed to the front of the building.

Owen was quickly loaded onto a stretcher and put into the ambulance, Ryan at his side.

Owen groped, absentmindedly for something to hold. Ryan slid his shaking fingers into Owen's and inaudibly whispered, "Don't worry, Owen. We'll get you there in time."

Heather looked around the crowded strip mall. She, Lizzie, and Katherine were at Tango Mango, a new smoothie place where kids came to hang out. Music was blaring and a lot of couples were dancing with music but the threesome stayed where they were. They were worried.

"Matthew was supposed to be here ten minutes ago!" Katherine exclaimed, looking at her watch.

"With Owen!" Heather said, almost stamping her foot in anger.

"Well, you guys are lucky you _have _a guy to like! Me, I'm stuck with Emmett or Luke and I'm pretty sure we're illegal!" Lizzie huffed. "And why the heck would you like my brother, Katherine? He's a dork!"

"I don't _like like _your brother, Liz!" Katherine defended. "And he is not a dork!"

"Anyone who gets stuck in the slide at Chuck 'E' Cheese at age 17, I would consider a dork," Lizzie mumbled.

"Well, Owen swallowed a nickel!" Katherine said loudly.

Everyone laughed.

"When he was six!" Heather defended.

"Okay, that guy is too cute not to know me," Lizzie said, watching a young boy was black hair walk past them. "Excuse me for a moment."

"You go girl!" Heather exclaimed. Katherine playfully spanked her and Lizzie shook her booty and started into the crowd.

"God, we're weird," Heather sighed watching Lizzie walk away.

"Yes, but we have a great time," Katherine said.

"True!" Heather admitted.

Matthew came up from behind Katherine and shouted, "Surprise!"

Heather jumped even though she knew it was coming and slopped apricot smoothie down her shirt.

"Matthew!" Katherine exclaimed with false surprise. "Where the heck have you been?"

"Waiting for O-Man," Matthew sighed. "He didn't show up so I left before the shop shut down!"

"I wouldn't waste your breath!" An eavesdropping bystander said.

"What was that?" Matthew asked.

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" The bystander's friend said.

"Enlighten me," Heather said menacingly.

"They found Owen in a janitor's closet!" The friend said, with a huge smile like all that was going on was very humorous.

"He had fainted!" The person, whom they recognized as Lily Cadwell, said happily. Her friend (known as Michelle Kindel) nodded.

"Oh my God," Heather pushed her way through Lily and Michelle and rushed out of the Tango Mango. She plopped in the car, swore loudly, and pressed the pedal to the floor.

Heather reached the room in which Owen resided. She opened the door and snuck inside.

"I'm _fine_," Owen said, trying to pull the IV out of his wrist but the nurse stopped him. "I need to go! I have plans!"

"Son," The nurse said. "You do realize you just passed out because of low blood sugar and almost died?"

Heather gulped but said nothing. She listened to the conversation.

"No," Owen said sarcastically. "I forgot."

"I don't need sarcasm, Mr. Bolton," The nurse (Dolly, according to her name tag) snapped.

"Owen, just lie in your bed. We don't mind if you're late," Heather said, stepping up to his bed.

"Heather!" Owen said. "Oh my God! I'm sorry! I got locked in this closet and I…"

"Yeah, we're never going to forgive you, Owen. You _aren't allowed _to go to the hospital without confirming it with us first!" Heather scolded.

"I'm sorry. I'll ask you next time! I promise!" Owen said, bowing his head, begging for mercy.

"If you aren't the _meanest _little girl!" Dolly said, outraged. "You're friend almost _died_, little missy!"

"Yeah, Dolly, she was kidding," Owen said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, well… I'm just going to check on a different patient," She said, smoothing her pink scrubs with pride. "If you aren't here when I get back, I'll skin you alive!"

"If I'm not here how will you be able to skin me?" Owen asked. Dolly exhaled noisily and slammed the door behind her, shooting a nasty look at Heather.

Heather stared at Owen and said, "How you feeling?"

"I want to go home," Owen said, yanking at his IV yet again.

"Owen!" Heather said. "Stop that!"

"I was here _last _week!" Owen said, pulling at the IV again. "What did they do? Glue this thing to my wrist?"

"Owen," Heather said quietly. She pulled a chair to the side of the bed and gently pushed the IV away from Owen's grasp. Even more gently, she cupped her hand around the side of his face and said, "I'm sorry."

Owen nodded and sighed, leaning against the pillows. "I hate it here, Heather."

"I know," Heather said, leaning forward in her chair.

"No, you don't know!" Owen shouted, tears spilt down his face. This scared Heather. Not that Owen had shouted. That he was crying. She had never seen Owen cry before, that's in 17 years of friendship. "No one understands what I go through _every time _I have to come here. I'm too young for this, Heather. I don't want this to happen."

"No one does," Heather said quietly.

"Every time I come here it's 'make sure this doesn't happen' 'but if that doesn't happen _this _will.' I'm tired of it. I don't want to die, Heather. I've too much to live for."

"You won't die," Heather said. "Because I won't let anything happen to you."

Heather climbed into the uncomfortable, white bed and snuggled next to Owen.

"Another bad thing about this place," Heather said. "They need to get you more comfortable beds!"

Owen gave a watery laugh. "Got that right."

Dolly came back two hours later and found Owen and Heather fast asleep in each other's arms.

Only if they knew that Clark was concocting a new plan. One even more evil and malicious than the others…

And if only Clark knew, how much it was going to hurt Owen.

**As/n: EVIL CLARK I HATE YOU! Okay, now that that's out… R&R! (Toldja you'd hate him even more!) What's Clark going to do? And why in the world won't Heather and Owen hook up? Oh… the relationship and the pranks are going to get more nail biting than ever…**


	15. Chapter 16

**Chapter 6 **

**Overheard Disappointments**

"Owen!" A sugary voice screamed. "Owen, will you come here for a minute?"

Owen silently groaned and walked towards Callie.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"I seemed to have left my coat in the teacher's lounge, will you get it for me?" Callie asked, pulling a strand of honey blonde hair and batting her long black eyelashes.

"Yeah, sure," Owen said and he dashed away before he could even wonder what Callie was doing in the teacher's lounge. He mutely opened the door, greeted the teachers in there, and pulled the Gucci coat off of the couch.

"Thank you _so _much, Owen!" Callie squealed, throwing her arms around him in what should have been a bone-crushing hug, if Owen wasn't bigger than her. Owen scratched his neck and said his response to her odd way of thankfulness and ran down the hall, claiming he had forgotten something in his locker, which, in reality, was three lockers away from them.

On his way to a locker, _any _locker, really, he ran into Matthew who was on his way to detention.

"Wow. Someone's seen a ghost," Matthew teased, throwing his backpack on the floor and fishing out an inhaler. He has always kept one for when Owen's wasn't handy. In this case, it was the best idea because Owen's chest was heaving and he was panting heavily.

Owen took a puff and said, "Or I've seen Callie."

"Ah," Matthew said, leaning against the cold metal of the lockers and leaning his head back with his eyes closed. "Callie. She's kind of stalker-ish. Yesterday she asked if I knew what your schedule was, claiming that she was going to have you and Clark share a schedule because you're best friends and all."

"Clark and I? Best friends?" Owen laughed. "What's she smoking?"

"_Love_," Matthew teased. "She's in love with you, O. You are going to grow up to become her love slave!"

"Funny, Matt, really funny," Owen sighed, joining Matthew in his locker relaxation. "Aren't you supposed to be in detention?"

"Not for another five minutes. I figured I'd come and watch you go head-over-heels for Miss Greensburg," Matthew joked.

"Seriously, Matt. I don't love her and I never will!" Owen said, throwing his hands in the in frustration. "She's kind of scary, the way she struts down the halls and knows everything about my dad."

"I know! I'm kidding! Take it easy!" Matthew said.

"So what are you in detention for this time?" Owen asked, calmed down.

"I don't remember," Matthew said. "It's either for skateboarding in the halls or not going to detention _yesterday _for skateboarding down the halls." Matthew shrugged. "One of the two."

"How in the world do you manage that?" Owen asked.

"Easy. Just be me," Matthew answered with a mysterious smile.

Matthew was known as one of the biggest rebels in the school. He was a good kid, honestly, but he could sometimes get… carried away. He was smart, talented, but he also had a knack for trouble. He was like a magnet and trouble just stuck to him. One time, Owen had gotten so mad at his teacher, Mr. Schaeffer, that he put all of his ties (which he had found in the teacher's lounge) on the flagpole out front of the school. Matthew was instantly blamed and he instantly took the blame and didn't even care that his punishment was a week's worth of detention. He said that the look on Schaeffer's face was enough of a reward to cover up the punishment. Owen had felt so bad that he acted as if he were Matthew's servant for a week, asking for his forgiveness every two minutes.

"Oh, shoot," Owen said, watching Clark appear at the end of the hall. "I got to run… somewhere."

He took off without a good bye and traveled to the other side of the school where his dad was talking with Ryan.

"Dad!" Owen exclaimed breathlessly. "There you are!"

"Owen, what's up?" Troy asked, stuffing a music sheet under his arm.

"What are you guys doing?" Owen asked, looking at the pair. Ryan and Troy were both burdened with papers and both had pencils sticking out from behind their ears.

"Oh, the Winter Musical is coming up," Ryan said, shifting through the papers. "And they all sound like nails on a blackboard."

"Ry," Troy scolded. "It's all freshman who have no extracurricular activities yet so they decided to befoul the theater and deafen Ryan and I."

"Oh, that's a shame," Owen said, looking at his shoes. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, hoping this would by him time away from Callie.

"Owen, I have to. I'm sorry," Ryan said.

"Huh?" Owen asked, lifting his head up.

"Owen, you need to try out!" Ryan cried. "No one can sing! No one can act and you have the _perfect _background!"

"Thank you," Troy said, smiling.

"Me?" Owen asked. "Try out? This has to be a joke!"

"No jokes, O," Troy said. "We need someone who can sing."

"But you haven't even heard me sing before," Owen pointed out quickly.

"Actually…" Ryan looked guilty. "I found this in Emmett and Charlie's room. They have a knack with a camera, I must say."

He lifted up a black tape. Owen pulled it out of Ryan's hands and studied it. Owen the white tape, an untidy scrawl read out "Owen and Heather's dance." Owen groaned. Had they really seen this? It was last year and Heather was babysitting the twins. She called Owen asking him to come over and help. The twins were crying nonstop saying that they wanted someone to sing to them. In the end, the two little kids made up an entire dance routine to some music they found in Kelsi's closet. The song?

Bop to the Top.

The dance was a tango that Owen and Heather had to learn in dance in their freshman year. They made Owen put on a pair of Jason's dress pants and shirts and Heather was forced to wear Kelsi's glittery purple dress from a musical she was on.

"I can't believe those two," Owen whispered. "Look, I- it's really flattering and all but… I-I can't sing!" Owen stammered.

"The tape seems to disagree!" Ryan laughed. "He is just like you, Troy."

"He is except he can tango better," Troy quipped.

"I… I just don't think-," Owen began.

"We need you, O," Ryan said. "If we don't find someone in three days will you _please _at least _try out_?"

Owen looked into Ryan's pleading blue eyes. They looked just like Heather's…

"Fine, but I'm not wearing a leotard," Owen said.

"Thank you!" Ryan pulled Owen into a bone-crushing hug and then stopped when he realized he could actually crush one of Owen's bones.

Owen rubbed his rib cage and Ryan said, "Did I break a rib?"

"Nah," Owen said. "It was already broken."

"Sorry."

"You need to get Heather to try out with you," Troy said.

"Me?"

"Well, she'll listen to you and you guys harmonize so well," Ryan said.

"Yeah. I'll talk to her," Owen said.

…………………………..

Earlier…

Heather waltzed the halls of East High. Owen had gotten out of the hospital yesterday and was the talk of the school.

"Did you hear?"

"Owen Bolton passed out!"

"In a janitor's closet!"

"And he was locked in there by Clark Greensburg!"

"What!?" Heather screamed in outrage. "_Clark _locked him in there?"

"Yeah!" The girl giggled. "Pretty funny, huh?"

"Yes," Heather snapped. "I can hardly breathe with laughter!"

She stormed down the hall in a desperate attempt to reach Owen. Her head was reeling. Why would Clark do that? Why didn't Owen tell Heather that Clark did that? What the heck was Clark's problem?

Heather turned the corner, blind in her fury and stopped when she saw that Matthew and Owen were talking.

"Seriously, Matt. I don't love her and I never will!" Owen said, throwing his hands in the in frustration. "She's kind of scary, the way she struts down the halls and knows everything about my dad."

Heather stood, hands shaking in rage. Obviously, he was talking about her. She knew everything about his dad. I mean, whom else would they be talking about? Tears spilt down her cheeks and she ran down the hall.

Suddenly, blinded by not only her rage but her tears, she slammed into a solid figure.

"Evans," Clark said, smiling at her. "What's up?"

Before Heather even thought about anything, she stood on her tiptoes, pulled Clark's face towards her and kissed him smack dab on the lips.

"Wow," Clark said, after she had stopped. "What has that for?"

"Shut up and kiss me," Heather said, desperately thinking:

_Get that backstabbing jerk, Bolton, back._

Clark kissed her and her she had a battle in her mind. One said, go on, date him. The other said, how could you be so stupid?

She was suddenly blinded but apparent stupidity and said, "Want to go out Saturday night?"

"Sure," Clark answered, grabbing her around the waist and they both heading down the hall. Clark looked as happy as he could be but Heather thought she was going to be sick.

…………………………..

Owen looked around the almost empty halls, searching for Heather. In a way, he was excited about the musical. In another way, he was terrified. He knew he had a good voice. He wouldn't deny the truth but he didn't know if he wanted everyone in the school going crazy because Owen Bolton wanted to try out for a musical.

He moved crazily through the halls, lost in thought. But then, clear as daylight, Heather was walking down the hall…

_Holding Clark's hand._

Owen blinked, hoping he was going crazy but his hopes got crushed as Heather and Clark approached them. Heather and Clark wore identical smiles and they looked into each other's eyes like anyone would be lucky to be them.

"Heather?" Owen asked incredibly.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" Heather asked rudely.

"Nothing. I just- Clark?" Owen asked stupidly.

Clark laughed. "Yeah. I know. I told you she would never like loser like you. No one likes you!"

Heather smiled maliciously.

"Not even your own mother."

Owen watched in astonishment as Clark and Heather shoved past him and went down the hall hand in hand.

**As/n: Okay, who's mad at Heather now? I know I am. Kind of short chapter but it said a lot. Will Owen still try out for the musical and follow his dad's footsteps? (I hope so!) R&R!!!**


	16. Chapter 17

**Chapter 7 **

**"Come Back Soon"**

Owen huffed and quickened his pace as he reached the park. He listened to the pounding of his Nike running shoes as they hit the pavement. His heart rate quickened as he heard the distant babbling of the creek and he hurried down the sidewalk and continued with his run. Although a cool breeze swept through the neighborhood, beads of sweat trickled down Owen's dirty face. He wiped it off with his palm and let his feet carry him to the green painted bench at the end of the playground.

Owen doubled over and put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Even though his heart was pounding, his chest was heaving, and his face was dirty and sweaty, Owen smiled. He loved to run when he was in a depressed mood. It just seemed like if he pushed a little bit harder and ran a little bit faster, no one could touch him, no one could hurt him.

The situation with Heather had not gotten any better over the last two days. If anything, it got worse. Not only did Owen no receive nasty looks, he had gotten mean emails, hatred letters, and the word "LOSER" had been written in big red letters on his locker door. Owen had gone through enough public humiliation in the last two days to last him a lifetime and it was hard to believe that his best friend was the cause of it all.

A squeal had snapped Owen back to reality and he whipped around to find the culprit.

Callie Greensburg was rushing towards him as fast as her designer C&C heels would carry her.

_Does she ever _not _know where to find me?_ Owen thought as he plastered a fake smile on his face and waved.

"Owen, you dropped this!" Callie said, handing Owen a pink coin purse.

"Actually," Owen said, casually flipping it over in his hands. "I don't think this is mine." He tossed it back to her and ran a hand through his hair nervously. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I was just getting some fresh air," Callie said. "What'd you do to your arm?" Callie asked, walking up to Owen.

Owen had completely forgotten his attire for running was a black iPod nano, a white tee shirt, a pair of navy blue basketball shorts, and white and red Nike running shoes.

He scratched his neck uncomfortably. Immediately, he dropped his hand in fear of his shirt lifting. Too late, Callie had seen the bandage.

"Owen, what are you doing to yourself?" Callie asked in mock concern, stepping closer. "Clark told me you two got in a little spat. Is that true?"

_He locked me in a closet, took my best friend away, and told me my dead mother hates me… 'little spat'? No. No spat there!_

"Yeah," Owen said simply, sitting down on the bench.

"Oh, well that's too bad. I was hoping you guys would become good friends. Seeing how your father and I got along so well…" Callie said, sitting next to him.

Owen tried to cover his laugh. "I guess."

"Well, that doesn't mean that _we _can't be good friends. Right, Owen?" Callie asked, slipping her hand onto Owen's shoulder.

"Sure," Owen said, acting like she wasn't creeping him out.

Callie 'innocently' put her hand in his hair and patted him on the head. "That's great!" She exclaimed. "Well, why don't you come with me to my house? I have some cookies there and you're probably thirsty after running for so long! I mean, from your house all the way to here?" Callie clicked her tongue. "You need some water. Come with me."

"Okay?" Owen said, as he was pulled to his feet by Callie and shoved roughly in the direction of her house.

Callie's heels clicked on the pavement as they walked in silence across the road, breath coming out in short puffs, sending wisps of breath clouding into the air. Owen stuffed his thumbs into the band of his shorts and looked around at his barren surroundings. Owen pulled his headphones out of his ears with one hand and swiftly tucked them into the band with his thumb.

"That was tricky, Owen!" Callie said. "You need to teach me sometime!"

"Yeah…" Owen said, blushing deeply.

They arrived at the enormous three story stone house and Callie opened the huge oak door.

"Welcome to our home!" She said dramatically, ushering him into the house.

The door opened into a huge foyer with a giant grand winding staircase. The newly polished tile floors glistened under Owen's worn shoes. Owen's eyes turned in amazement towards the sparkling chandelier above him, attached to the 18 foot domed ceiling.

"Great, isn't it?" Callie said, watching Owen with an ecstatic look on her face.

"Yeah," Owen said in wonder, examining a crystal vase on a cherry wood stand.

Callie swung the door close with a bang and with a tiny 'click' the door locked behind her. Owen was trapped inside Callie's house.

"So, Owen," Callie said, as Owen sipped on a glass of water at the granite kitchen counters. "You look _just _like your father when he was your age. Except for of course, the hair color and the eyes."

"Yeah," Owen said, putting down his glass. "I got them from my mom."

"Oh, your mother! What was she like?" Callie asked, pulling herself up to the counter, resting her elbows on the counter and sticking her head in her hands so she had a perfect view of Owen.

"I don't remember her, really," Owen said, picking at his shorts. "I was so young when she died…"

"Oh, how tragic!" Callie said, not looking upset at all. Callie stood up and walked over to Owen, placing a perfectly manicured hand on the small of his back, sending shivers up his spine. "Owen, you know, if you have any problems you can come and see me." Then she leaned in and whispered in his ear, "And see me often."

Her lips almost touched Owen's ear, that's how close she had leaned in. Owen could feel her warm breath on his neck and smell her Chanel No. 9 perfume wafting up his nose.

"Thanks," He gulped, pulling his chair closer to the counter, putting space between the two. Owen shivered as Callie's hand moved lightly across his back. She appeared in front of him and said, "I hope you'll come by more often, Owen. I really enjoy these visits." She gave him a coy wink and traveled over to the sink.

"I really have to go," Owen said, pushing his chair out. "My dad's probably waiting for me."

"Well, call him and tell him you'll be late," Callie said, handing a phone to Owen.

"I really think…"

"Oh, come on, Owen!" Callie sighed. "Have a little fun!"

"Yeah, okay, I'll call him," Owen said, dialing the number. He silently prayed for his father to not pick up his phone and the prayer didn't seem to work because after three rings, Troy picked up.

"Hello?"

"Dad?" Owen said, spinning his chair away from Callie. "It's Owen."

"Hey, O," Troy said. "What's up?"

"I'm going to be a little late," Owen said, pulling his shirt collar loose with his forefinger.

"Where are you?" Troy asked.

"The Greensburgs'," Owen said, hoping his father would let him come home.

"Okay, well, be back before dinner. Heather and Ryan are coming over," Troy said.

"Joy," Owen mumbled. "Okay, see you later, Dad."

"Bye, O," Troy said and hung up the phone.

Callie, Owen had noticed, had put on a new shade of lipstick and a pair of pink fuzzy slippers. Owen scratched his neck and said, "My dad says that it's cool."

"That's great!" Callie said. "You want to get more comfortable? You look so sweaty!"

"I was on a run, Miss Greensburg," Owen said dully.

"Please, call me Callie!" Callie said. "I'll go get you some of Clark's clothes."

Before Owen could protest, Callie shuffled away and into the laundry room. Minutes later, she came back with a black tee shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans.

"Sorry," Callie said, throwing them on the counter. "It's all I could find."

"That's fine," Owen said. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Oh, it's under renovation right now. If you want you can go in the laundry room."

"Yeah, okay."

Owen walked into the laundry room and threw his shoes off his feet. He pulled the jeans (two sizes too large) over his plaid boxers and neatly folded his basketball shorts and set them on the washing machine. He pulled the white shirt off his head and looked around for the black shirt. Where was it?

_I had it just a minute ago!_

"Miss- Callie!" Owen called. "Where's the shirt?"

Callie walked into the laundry room holding the black shirt. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Owen had no shirt on.

"I forgot to hand it to you," Callie lied. "Sorry."

She handed it to Owen who took it from her hands, brushing Callie's fingers on the way.

"Sorry," He mumbled and threw the shirt over his head. Owen shifted into the kitchen and put his neatly folded clothes on the counter.

"Better?" Callie asked, coming up behind him.

"Yeah," Owen lied. "Thanks."

It was truly _worse _than before. Callie was extremely close to Owen and (situation permitting) he was uncomfortable.

"Hey!" Callie exclaimed. "I have something you're going to like. Come with me!"

She took Owen by the hand and led him into the luxurious living room. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth and spread its warm glow over the ornate furniture and mural walls.

Callie roughly shoved Owen onto the brown leather cough and walked over to the bookshelf. She cocked her honey blonde head slightly and searched through the titles. Finally, she found the book. Carefully pulling out a white book, Callie smiled at Owen sending tingles up his spine.

"Look!" Callie said, flipping the book open to the correct page. "_This_," She pointed at photo. "Is your father."

Owen looked at the photo and almost let out a gasp. It could've been Owen with lighter hair and crystal blues eyes in that picture. But sure enough, right under the picture were the words "Troy Bolton" and a little blue ink heart.

Owen skimmed through the book finding all of his dad's friends and then finally, his eyes swarmed with tears as he looked at a smiling picture of a woman with a bright radiance, a warm smile, sparkling eyes, and a tumbling head of dark brown curls.

Owen gently grazed his fingers over the photo and whispered, "Mom."

"And look!" Callie said turning the page. "Here's the cheerleaders and there's me!" She pointed her French manicured finger at the picture.

"Yeah," Owen swallowed. His brilliant mind could not wrap around the fact that he had just seen his mother. He had seen his mother before, of course, but knowing and _seeing _that she had a life outside of her family was different to Owen. It hit him like a bullet.

"Oh," Callie said. "You must be thirsty! I'll get you something."

She scurried into the kitchen and poured Owen a drink but it wasn't water. It came out of a blue bottle labeled:

Skyy Vodka.

The only reason Callie had been acting so coy was to get some dirt out of Owen. She needed to get something about Troy. Again, she was going to ask him out but she needed something to talk to him about because apparently he didn't care much for basketball anymore. Callie didn't care _what _they talked about (even if it was a lie) all she cared about was having something in common with Troy.

She thought maybe a little alcohol would loosen Owen up.

Callie entered the living room with grace, careful not to spill the drinks. She took a sip of her vodka and sat down on the couch, pulling her legs on the cushions so she had to lean on Owen to keep her balance.

"Here's your drink," Callie said, handing Owen his glass of clear liquid. "Cheers!"

"Cheers." Owen clinked his glass with Callie's and took a deep drink, immediately spitting it out. "Is there _alcohol _in this?" He asked incredulously, wiping his mouth off with the back of his palm.

"What?" Callie asked, remembering her date (if you could call it that) 13 years ago with Troy. "Do you not drink?"

"I'm 17!" Owen exclaimed, setting the drink on the coffee table.

"Oh," Callie chuckled. She snuggled closer to Owen and drew circles on his chest with her index finger. "You're just so… _sophisticated._" She whispered seductively.

"Look, Miss Greensburg-"

"Callie."

"Callie," Owen said, pulling himself off the couch. "I just don't feel…" HE stopped. How could he explain how he felt without embarrassing Callie? "That it's time for me to go home.

He rushed out of the family room and into the laundry room with his stuff. He pulled his clothes on and went to the front door. Lacing his shoes up, he heard the back door slam.

"Thanks, Callie," He said.

As he turned to leave, he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder. It was bigger and stronger than Callie's.

Owen turned around and looked into the cold eyes of Clark Greensburg.

"What are you doing in my house, Bolton?" Clark growled.

"I-uh-I was just…"

"Clark! Thank God you're here!" Callie said. "Owen came in and tried to hurt me!"

"What?" Clark and Owen screamed in unison.

"Bolton!"

"That's not what happened!" Owen said. "I was running and then your mom came and invited me over so I came in…"

"So are you calling my mom a liar?" Clark screamed.

"No! I didn't say that!" Owen's back was against the door, his hand groping for the doorknob. He found it and turned with no luck, for it was locked. His next mission was the lock…

"Clark! Be nice!" Callie said, fear hinting on her flawless face. "Don't hurt him!"

"Why?" Clark sneered. "He tried to hurt you!"

"Don't make me open that drawer!" Callie said, looking at the credenza feet away from them.

"You wouldn't!" Clark said.

"I would."

A silence followed and then the 'click' of a lock. Owen turned the knob and both boys when tumbling down the stone steps and onto the emerald green lawn. Clark wasted no time. As soon as Owen's back hit the grassy lawn, Clark's fists went flying. Owen vaguely tried to fight him back. He was exhausted and fighting back was not really an option.

He felt Clark's fist connect with his jaw, his wrestling ring smashing the bone. Owen let out a howl of ache, which only seemed to give Clark an incentive to punch harder.

"Clark Mackenzie Greensburg! Stop that right now!" Callie screamed. Immediately, Clark rolled off Owen and stood up. But he wasn't going to leave without engraving a message in Owen's mind.

He kicked Owen hard in the side sending a sickening pop throughout the cold air.

Owen let out a scream of pain and writhed in the grass. His eyes shut tight and his teeth clenched taut. Clark chuckled at the burst of pain and said, "Don't come back or you'll pay."

Owen didn't reply but he let the cold, crisp air slice through his teeth and gingerly rested his tensed back on the grass. Slowly he exhaled and let all the pain flow through the air. Sadly, relaxing his chest seemed to make it worse and he groaned. He heard the door slam and the patter of C&C heels as they hurried towards him.

Callie lowered herself onto the ground, kissed Owen lightly on the check and whispered, "Come back soon" in his ear. She hurried away and slammed the door shut, leaving Owen gasping for air on her front lawn.

………………………………

After a long painful walk home, Owen sat on his couch, shirt off, new bruises appearing and an ice bag on his side. His father wasn't back from the grocery store yet and Owen was thankful. He groaned at the thought of dinner with Heather. He didn't think he could endure a night with both Heather and Clark. After all, Clark had just popped his rib on his front lawn.

"Holy crud, Owen," Heather breathed as she stepped in the living room. "What'd you do?"

"What do you care?" Owen asked bitterly, reaching for his shirt and groaning in pain.

"I don't," Heather lied, although the expression on her face when she heard Owen groan was a mix of terror and concern.

"Well, then, you might want to thank your boyfriend," Owen said, gently pulling the shirt on.

"I will," Heather said with false indignity.

She could hardly believe that Clark would do something that awful but sure enough, in the bruise on Owen's lower jaw was the shape of Clark's wrestling ring.

"You happy with Clark?" Owen asked, pulling himself to the edge of the couch.

"Oh, Owen…"

"I mean it," Owen said. "Is he nice to you? Does he like… I don't know… hurt you like he did _me _tonight?"

"Owen, stop being so nice to me," Heather said angrily. "I don't need you to be nice to me. I have better people to hang out with!" In her mind she was screaming, _I don't deserve for you to be nice to me, Owen._

"Fine," Owen said, angrily, pulling himself painfully onto his feet, almost stumbling for the pain. "I hate you, you backstabbing jerk!" He said. There was a silence and he softly said, "Is that good?"

He left, bright brown eyes glazed with tears, and slammed the door on the one girl he thought he would always love.

As/n: GRRRRRR!!! I AM MAD AT HEATHER, CALLIE, AND CLARK! Are you? Please, R&R!!!! Callie's a little… creepy in this chapter. I just want you guys to hate her (if you don't already!) but she'll get MEAN… very mean. What will happen with Owen and Heather? More importantly, what will happen with CLARK and Heather? (They better not stay together!)


	17. Chapter 18

**As/n: This chapter will be done in 4 subchapters. RR&E! (Read, review, and enjoy!) **

**Chapter 8 **

**Subchapter 1**

**Choices**

Dork.

Freak.

Loser.

Momma's Boy!

These were the words that adorned the white wall that used to be the beginning of Owen's masterpiece. People came by and stopped to point and laugh at Owen's smiling picture next to the words. Teachers tried to keep students away and tried to remove the picture with no luck. After their vain attempts, they gave up and returned to their classrooms.

Matthew was skating down the hall when he was stopped by the foot traffic. He flipped his skateboard off the ground and shoved his way to the front of the crowd. He gasped when he saw the "masterpiece" on the white wall.

Matthew slowly pushed his way back out of the crowd. He needed to keep Owen away from here. Too bad his locker was twenty feet away…

"Matt!" Owen called. "What's going…"

Owen stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the wall. The noisy crowd silenced as they watched Owen's face empty of expression. Then, the noise returned and instead of a happy chatter it changed to laughter.

"Dork!"

"Freak!"

"Loser!"

The crowd jeered nasty names at Owen. Matthew was doggedly trying to get everyone to shut up, as were Lizzie and Katherine who just arrived at the scene. Lizzie even slapped a boy who was calling Owen a geek but nothing seemed to stop this merciless crowd.

Owen turned and headed down the hall, laughter following him the entire way. He made a sharp turn at the end of the hall and took the staircase towards the teacher's lounge three steps at a time. But unfortunately, he slammed right into his father.

"Hey, O," Troy said, placing his hands on Owen's shoulders. "Slow down. …You okay? You look a little shaken up."

"Yeah," Owen said. "I'm fine. Well, I will be."

He took off down the hall to find who he knew was the culprit of the "wonderful mural" on the wall. He was kindly going to ask him to stop… or he was going to punch him. Whichever one came to mind first.

Owen hoped it would be the punching.

Clark was talking animatedly to Heather, Daniel Jacobs, and Nikki Carlson. They were all laughing at something Heather had just said.

"How'd Bolton's mom die anyway?" Nikki asked, throwing a dead cigarette on the ground and smashing it with the heel of her tennis shoe.

"Probably dropped dead at the sight of Owen's hideous face," Heather quipped, receiving many laughs from the group of people around her. Although she was smiling, it was easy to see in her eyes that she wasn't happy to be there.

"Heather," Owen said, tears brimming his eyes. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Hey, whatever you say to me you can say to my friends," Heather sneered.

"What is up with you?" Owen asked, fighting back the tears and the lump that had risen in his throat.

This is when Heather Evans cracked.

"What? Are you mad at me, too?" She bellowed. "Well, get in line, Owen, because you aren't the only one. First, you claim you can't love me. Then, my friends don't talk to me. Now my father's mad at me for _Lord knows what_. So bring it on, Owen. Bring on some more hate. I can take it!"

"Heather," Owen said through his tears. "You _chose _for those things to happen! That was your _choice _to get your friends mad at you. It was your _choice _to get your dad mad. You _chose _to let me hate you. Me? You act like all this is _my _choice! I didn't _choose _to have my health! I didn't _choose _for you to torture me! It wasn't my _choice _for my mom to die! You go around acting like your life is so awful, but you brought it upon _yourself_, Heather! No one else did this to you! So go ahead, Heather. Torture me… but remember… this is _your _choice… not mine."

Owen walked down the hall, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Owen, wait!" Heather called. She tried to go down the hall but a hand refrained her.

"Don't worry about that loser, Heather," Clark said. "You need a _man_ to take care of you."

"Owen is more of a man then you'll _ever _be," Heather spat, pulling her hand out from Clark's.

"So that's how it's going to be?" Clark asked acidly.

"Yeah, that's how it's going to be," Heather sneered. Then she sighed and laughed. "You're right!" She exclaimed. "I do need a man to take care of me. That's why we're through, Clark. …Done! Over! Finished! I need to find the man I've always loved so if you'll excuse me…"

She ran down the hall in pursuit of her old love, hoping he'd take her back.

"Owen!" She yelled as she turned the corner and saw Owen's back to her, walking towards the staircase.

"What _more _can you do to me?" Owen asked incredulously as he turned to face her.

Heather jumped into his arms and gave him a long, zealous kiss.

"Heather…"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that!" Heather said happily.

"Me, too."

Owen pulled her into another kiss.

"Why would you tell Matthew you could never love me?" Heather asked. She explained the story to Owen who pondered it for a moment and burst out laughing.

"No!" Owen said. "He was talking about Callie!"

Heather pulled him into a hug. He moaned loudly. Heather gave Owen a confused, concerned look.

"Popped rib," He said hoarsely, rubbing his side.

"Owen!" Heather scolded.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Heather!" Owen moaned, walking down the hall.

"Let me look at it!" Heather exclaimed, pulling on the bottom of his shirt.

"Look! A flying saucer!" Owen exclaimed, pointing out the window and tugging his shirt away.

"Owen, please!" Heather begged.

"Go away!" Owen moaned.

"Owen!"

"Stop following me!"

They ran down the hall quarreling like an old married couple…

Like best friends.

**Chapter 8**

**Subchapter 2**

**Abused**

Light poured through the spotless windows of 486 Bluehill Drive. They washed over the brown granite countertops, causing them to sparkle brightly. The house was empty except for one woman, standing on her balcony, one perfect hand rested on the rail, the other on her slim hips. A light breeze ruffled her honey blonde hair and cause her to blink her bright blue eyes.

She was angry. You could see it in her frowned pink lips and her sparkling blue eyes. She tapped her heeled BCBG heels against the rough ground of the balcony and looked at the maple tree so close to her head.

The tree seemed to be on fire. It was blazed with golds, browns, and oranges signaling the arrival of fall. As her model-trained eyes looked unblinkingly at the tree, a few leaves floated to the ground and to the woman's dismay, with that leaf went her last shred of happiness.

She let out a cry of aggravation and stomped over to the other side of the balcony with a view of the black street below her. Troy Bolton had turned her down, _yet again_! She didn't know how many times she could talk the put down of rejection. _No one _rejected her. It was a known fact. No one except the one she wanted.

Her anger was interrupted by the pounding of red and white Nike running shoes and a distant sound of "Over My Head" by the Fray below her. A young dark brown haired, brown-eyed boy was running below her. He stopped running for a moment and put his hands behind his head, latching them together as to make a headrest in mid-air. He stopped though and let out a groan of pain, rubbing his chest gingerly.

Even though the woman was high in the air, she could plainly see a bruise creeping its way up the boy's jaw and one curling down his arm. In fact, the bruises were covering his legs and the nape of the boy's neck, too, all the caused by her son.

Callie Greensburg smiled evilly as a plan formulated in her mind.

She watched Owen start running away and turn down the street corner. She sighed with pleasure as the plan started to become a reality. She dug her manicured hand into her True Religion jeans' pocket and pulled out a pink Razr. She quickly dialed the numbers: 9, 1, and 1.

If she couldn't have Troy Bolton, she was going to make sure no one could.

One the third ring a nasal voice answered the phone.

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

"Hi. My name is Callie Greensburg," Callie said in a happy voice, a malevolent smile curling on her lips.

"I'd like to report a case of child abuse…"

**Chapter 8 **

**Subchapter 3**

**Revenge**

Heather took a deep breath swallowing the cold, crisp air. She grabbed onto Luke's hand and traveled deeper into the park, following the cracked cement sidewalk as she went. Sharpay was getting a check up at the doctor, Zeke was at work, and Lily was at horseback riding lessons so Heather was next up on the babysitting list.

Owen was busy at school trying to repaint the wall white. Heather had a guilty feeling gnawing at her stomach. _No one _wants to stay late on a Friday to paint over a wall. Not even Owen and she was the reason the wall had to be painted over, for the second time.

Heather looked down and saw Luke's eyes widen and his grip tighten as they heard the distant babbling of the creek. She scooped him up and carried him all the way to the playground, gently singing songs of comfort in his ears.

Gently, she set Luke back on the ground and looked around the park that was empty. This was odd because normally the playground was buzzing with kids on Fridays. Though, when you consider recent events, as in Owen's stabbing, it didn't seem that odd at all.

There was a crunch of dry leaves and the snap of a stick that told Heather that she wasn't alone anymore. She turned around to pick Luke back up, only to find Luke in someone else's arms.

The last person she would _ever _want to be around Luke.

Clark Greensburg was holding onto Luke with a dirty hand covering Luke's mouth.

"Looking for someone?" He asked quietly.

"Clark, put him down," Heather said in what she hoped to be a threatening voice. "Come on, do what you want with me but leave Luke alone."

Max Allistor, the boy who had stabbed Owen not even two weeks ago, appeared behind Heather. He dove forward and latched his hands onto Heather's arms.

"Where's your boyfriend, Evans?" Max whispered in her ear.

"Let go of me!" Heather screamed, squirming to get out of his grip.

"Max, stop playing around," Clark said. "We have the kid, let's go."

Max shoved Heather forward, causing her head to smash into the cement sidewalk and he ran away, Clark following close behind. Slightly dazed, Heather stood up and shouted, "Help!" but it was no use. No one was there to hear her.

As quickly as her stunned body could carry her, Heather ran until she was in view of the road. She watched as Clark shoved a crying Luke into the back of the car.

"Hevver!" Heather heard Luke scream.

"Luke!" Heather ran as close as she could to the road without going in it. Everything was going in and out of focus. Max stepped on the pedal and the black Range Rover sped down the street.

She also watched as that same black Range Rover turned a corner and smashed into a red SUV, causing the black car to flip over into the middle of the street and crumple.

That was all she saw…

Before it went black.

**Chapter 8 **

**Subchapter 4**

**Never Again**

"Owen," Troy said to Owen, who had just finished painting the wall. "I need to talk to you."

"Shoot," Owen said, putting the paint can on the ground and wiping his hands off on his cargos.

"Look, Heather told me what happened with you and Clark… everything," Troy said, getting straight to the point.

Owen sighed. "Look, Dad…"

"I mean what were you _thinking _not telling anyone?" Troy asked angrily.

"Dad, I was just…"

"I'm Clark's teacher, Owen. I know some things about him that would make your head spin," Troy said. Owen gave him a _yeah-right_ look and Troy said, "Did you know he went to juvenile for beating up a kid so hard that he had to be hospitalized for three months?"

Owen shook his head truthfully.

"I didn't want you to worry. I was fine," Owen said.

"What worries me is that you didn't come to me!" Troy said. "You do realize that you could get seriously hurt if you don't have someone look at your rib?"

Owen remained silent.

"You need to be careful, Owen," Troy said.

"Dad, I'm 17," Owen said, annoyed. "Stop treating me like a kid!"

"Only when you stop acting like one," Troy said. There was a silence and Troy continued. "You may think you're being grown up, not telling anyone but it's not, Owen! It's childish and you could really get hurt."

Suddenly, Owen's cell phone rang. He dove into his pocket to retrieve it. The screen read "Lizzie's Cell". Owen answered, "Hello?"

"Owen, it's Lizzie. You need to get to the hospital right now. Heather's in trouble."

…………………………

Heather was awoken by the drone of a machine. Everything was blurred and she felt a warm form by her feet. The form was fast asleep, his head in his arms. Then the form arose and pulled Heather into a hug.

"Heather," Owen breathed. "Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Do you feel…"

"I'm fine," Heather said, pulling herself up on the pillows. "Where am I?"

"The hospital," Owen said in an almost inaudible voice.

Indeed, Heather was in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown, and sat inside a hospital. Suddenly, the scene flashed before her eyes: Luke, Clark, the car…

"Is Luke okay?" She asked.

Owen hesitated.

"It doesn't matter right now…" He said.

"Owen," Heather said sternly, tears locked in her eyes. "Is Luke okay?"

Owen sighed and stood up. He walked over to a machine and turned his back on Heather, looking at it with a sad look on his face. He turned back around, a single tear falling down his face.

"Luke died two hours ago at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital."

Heather's stomach hollowed. She said nothing. He head was reeling this can't be happening… it can't be.

"Another thing," Owen said, sitting down in the chair next to Heather's bed. He grabbed her hand and said, "Clark died 30 minutes ago."

Heather couldn't believe she would never see Luke again. It was her fault. All her fault. She wouldn't see Luke's young smiling face. He was too young to be gone. He was four years old. He still had so much to live for, so much to see, so much to do. He didn't get to fall in love, or kiss a girl. He never got to watch the sunset or dance until he passed out. He could never be rebellious. He could never be strong. He could never say "I love you" and see a real miracle.

Luke Baylor could be…

Never again.

**As/n: WAH!!!! Please review! Tell me what you think! The end is near! The funeral and the SURPRISE ENDING! WAHAHAHA! CoCo**


	18. Chapter 19

**As/n: This is going to be a short chapter but it will say A LOT! And I mean A LOT! And… it's the second to last chapter!! WAH!! R&R**

**Chapter 9 **

**The Angel's Falling**

It was as if the whole world was on mute and someone had set it on slow motion. Everyone around Heather was quiet and their movements little as they watched the tiny casket that sat on top of the cold ground. Sharpay's muffled cries and comforting words from Zeke seemed like the only thing that Heather could hear. She looked sadly at Lily who was also shedding tears of sadness for her little brother.

The whole graveyard was ringing with the tears of family members, friends, all, who had lost loved ones. The mass of black mirrored the moods of the family and friends, all who had shown up for the little boy who lay down to peace in front of them.

Heather watched as Lily laid a single flower on top Luke's coffin and whispered, "I love you" to her little brother. Sharpay ran her hand over the wood with tears pouring down her face. Zeke looked at the casket with sad, pleading eyes as if to say _Come back, Luke_. Owen buried his head into his father's chest and his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Matthew had put a reassuring arm around his sister's shoulder and slipped a strong hand into Katherine's. All three had silent tears slipping down their cheeks.

Taylor gave Sharpay a supportive hug and said, "It's all going to be okay." Chad stuck out his hand as if to shake hands with Zeke but thought better of it. He pulled Zeke into a long hug. When the hug had finished, Zeke pulled away, large tears streaming down his face. Kelsi and Jason were both talking to the couple, their hands on Emmett and Charlie's heads. Both looked up with large, wet eyes that said, _We're sorry._ Troy walked up and hugged the crying couple. He gave them a weak smile and said, "I know how hard this is. If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you." Both parents gave a grave nod and looked longingly at their son's coffin.

Heather could hardly take these unspoken sorrows, the outburst of tears, the way everyone's eyes seemed to scream _Why did this happen?_ Heather knew why this had happened. It was her fault, all her fault. If she would've kept a better eye on Luke then none of this would've happened. It would all go away. As she watched everyone else, she hardly noticed the tears of her own that had been leaving shining streaks down her cheeks.

Owen stepped up to the coffin, wiping away his tears of sorrow, and set something on the coffin.

He turned and looked at the unhappy crowd and said, "Why is this so hard? Why is it that, a life so innocent, could be taken away so quickly, so cruelly? God. God chose this for a reason. They say, "From dust to dust and to dust thou shall return. Take this soul, Luke, and bring it into your eternal kingdom. You have called them to you, and they shall find peace in your kingdom." I, for one, believe this. I believe, someone as kind, and sweet, and innocent as Luke will _find _the eternal happiness that God has promised him. Why do I hold onto this? …Because it feels so good. It feels _good _to know that the little boy I love will always be happy. I think we should all take comfort in the fact that he will feel no pain or sorrow. I say we owe it to him."

"To Luke," Heather whispered as she looked into the heavens. "To Luke."

……………………

It was two hours later, a gravestone sat at the site, reading:

From dust to dust, to dust thou shall return

Lucas Evans Baylor

Be forever happy

And Heather hadn't once taken her tear-filled eyes off the stone. The wind nipped at her face and bit at her legs but she did nothing but pull her black coat around her and stared. It was not only shock and grief that took her here… that rooted her to that spot. It was love. The love that was wanted, the love that was lost, and the love that would forever be…

"How are you?" Owen asked, walking up behind her and staring down at the same stone.

There was a long silence as tears trickled down Heather's face.

"Why," She questioned, sniffing. "Why did this have to happen? It should've been _me!_ It should be _me _in that coffin. Not Luke. Clark wanted _me_… not him. How could I have been so stupid as to not watch him? It's all my fault… It's all my fault that my little cousin is dead… How am I supposed to live with that?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Owen said, tears filling his bright brown eyes. He gently turned Heather's face towards his and caressed her tear stained cheek. "This is _not _your fault, Heather. Clark would've found a way to get you no matter what happened. If anything, it's _my _fault. I promised that I would protect you _and_ him no matter what happened and I didn't."

"Owen…"

"No, Heather," Owen stopped her. "The way I see it, the time will come for us to go. Luke's just came early. God has a plan. He always does."

Heather nodded and looked into Owen's trusting eyes. She buried her head into his chest and sobbed. Owen putting his arms around her shaking body and silently let tears pour down his face. She cried until she felt she could cry no more and they walked home, only to be met with a downpour of rain.

Heather and Owen stopped in front of Heather's door and Heather whispered, "I don't want to do this alone."

Owen pulled her head up with his index finger so blue eyes locked with brown. He wiped a tear off of her pink cheek and whispered back, "You won't have to."

……………………………………

Owen's mind wandered to the paper he had set on Luke's grave and he sighed. He laid his head on his pillow and let his sobs carry him to sleep.

Written on the single sheet of paper were the simple words:

_Until we meet again…_

………………………

Two days later, all of the teenagers met at the Tango Mango but none were in the mood to party, especially Lily who had just left the house for the first time in the past two days. She had skipped school and stayed with her mother who was so tired and sad that she could barely hold her own anymore.

School was unusually uneventful, as of Clark's death. The school seemed to miss those pranks that he pulled or his presence in the halls, even though they hated him. A ceremony in the gym was held where Callie showed up, dressed in all black, and made a speech about him. A commemorative inscription was placed outside the geometry room, honoring Clark for his spirit to the school. His locker had been emptied and painted black, so everyone would know that Clark Greensburg had lived on.

It had started to rain twenty minutes after the group had arrived. They all sat in one of the cozy sitting areas, had strained conversations, and shared dismal looks. After an hour of almost complete silence, Heather announced that she needed to get home. She and her father were going to have dinner with Owen's family and they needed to prepare the food.

Owen stood up and left with her, knowing that that wasn't the full truth. She just wanted to get away and cry in her room, something she had done for the past two days. As she turned the corner, Owen sped up and slipped his hand into hers. She didn't even flinch. She knew he was there the entire time.

They turned the corner and cut through an empty parking lot. It shined with the new falling rain and shimmered with the streets lights that had just been turned on, for it was dark. Stars twinkled up above, although you couldn't see them because of the giant storms clouds.

Suddenly, the parking lot wasn't empty anymore. It was Heather, Owen…

And Callie Greensburg.

She looked like a big mess. Make-up running, hair frizzed and flying. Her clothes were soaked and a huge bulge was in the band of her jeans.

"Miss Greensburg?" Owen questioned loudly. They were about ten feet away and the thunder had begun to boom.

"You!" Callie said shakily to Heather. "_You _are the reason that my son is dead!"

"N-no!" Heather stammered, gripping Owen's hand tighter.

"He was all I had!" Callie bellowed. "And you took him from me! Well, now… you're going to pay!"

She reached her hand into the band of her jeans and pulled out a little black form…

A little black gun.

Ever so slowly, Callie's finger pushed down on the trigger that aimed right into Heather's heart. The gunshot echoed throughout the cold night, howled into the wind, carried through the lonesome air, cracking the silence like a whip.

Without a moment's hesitation, Owen shoved Heather to the ground and looked at angrily at Callie before the bullet struck him right in the chest.

He fell to the ground heavily. Heather screamed. Callie's hands shook and her eyes widened. She let the gun slip through her fingers and clatter onto the ground before she ran off, body shaking.

"Owen!" Heather screamed. She ran over to Owen. A large spot of crimson blood was bleeding through his shirt. Heather's hands shook as she lowered them to Owen's empty face.

"Help! Somebody!" She bellowed through her tears. "_Somebody call 911_!"

A car pulled into the empty lot. The rain poured heavily now, soaking Owen's lifeless body, drenching Heather. Someone stepped out of the car and shouted over the rain, "Heather? Is that you?"

Heather whipped her head around as Jason came jogging over to her. His headlights cut through the dark night, shining on the spot where Callie had just disappeared.

"Heather, I-" Jason stopped. "Is that…"

"Call 911, Jason!" Heather interrupted. "Hurry!"

Jason pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed 911. He waited, an annoyed look on his face when the phone didn't ring. He looked at the black screen with an expression of dread.

The phone had run out of battery.

"Come on," He said, carefully lifting Owen's body off the ground. "Open the car door."

Heather ran over to the car and opened the door as quickly as she could, pushing papers off the seat. Gently, Jason lowered Owen's body onto the seats and pushed his wet jacket over Owen's chest.

"Heather, you need to sit back there with him," Jason said, jumping in the front seat.

"Huh?" Heather didn't know if she could do that without breaking down. Owen had saved her life, yet again and she just let it happen.

"You need to make sure he's still breathing and make sure he's warm. Check his pulse, do whatever. Just _make sure _he doesn't stop breathing, you understand?"

Heather nodded and climbed in next to Owen. She looked upon the face with a feeling of hopelessness. Owen was her hero and heroes don't die.

…………………………

Three hours later found Owen barely stable in a hospital bed and Troy at his side. Heather was standing above the bed, looking down at Owen's face, void of expression or life.

"How could this happen?" Troy asked. "Why would someone do that?"

Heather only nodded. She couldn't think of anything to say. She couldn't _think_. The only thing, actually, that she thought was:

_That bullet was meant for me._

"You just gotta keep trying," Troy said to Owen. "Keep trying, O. ...Because I need you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Troy let a single tear drip down his cheek and he turned and left the room.

Heather absentmindedly sat in Troy's seat, not taking her eyes off of Owen's face. She couldn't bare to look at it without a feeling of grief washing over her. Owen, it seemed, spent more time in the hospital than he did at home. But this time, this _one _time, he didn't _have _to be there. He could be at home, drawing or reading or doing something he enjoyed. Now his life was on the line because Owen had risked his life for her again.

Heather looked at the heart rate machine with a sense of dread and then she stared closer at it…

And saw the line go flat.


	19. Chapter 20

**As/n: This is the LAST chapter of When an Angel Falls and it's short BUT it's kind of just an epilogue to the next book. I hope you liked it! But, keep an eye out for the next story in the series: A Twist of Fate! Thanks, RR&E**

**Chapter 10**

**Taken Away**

It was as if time had stopped. It was like the movies where the only noise Heather could hear was her rugged breathing and loudly beating heart. Doctors and nurses in brightly colored scrubs whizzed past her screaming instructions that Heather could barely hear.

She was shuffled off to the side by an aggravated nurse and stood in the corner, watching the love of her life getting worked on by doctors. A loud shouting of "Clear!" buzzed past Heather's ears as tears stung her blue eyes. She looked at the heart rate machine and watched the line carry on as it was.

Straight.

Again, "Clear!" was shouted and everyone paused, watching the machine. Then Heather's eyes blurred, the tears threatening to leak out of their watery prison and down her face. Suddenly…

The line shook.

Heather watched in astonishment as the line rose and fell again, the heart rate of Owen restored. All the nurses and doctors sighed a sigh of relief and walked away, back to other patients.

Owen gave a loud moan. It was expected. A bullet in the chest and more than 100 bolts of electricity flowing through his body, it had to be a little painful.

Heather ran over and kissed him hard on the lips.

"Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" She asked, wiping tears off her cheeks.

"I don't _want_ to do that again. Electricity hurts," Owen moaned with a soft laugh.

Heather then, without thinking, climbed into the bed next to Owen, crying of shock and of joy. Owen put his arms around her and closed his eyes, breathing in her strawberry shampoo. Heather sniffed and smelt that familiar smell of medicine, Drakkar Noir, and mint toothpaste. She was home.

………………………

"I hate hospital food," Owen complained as Heather sat a tray of food on his lap. "Do you think I can get them to give me the I.V. again?"

"Owen, anything is better than my dad's cooking and you ate that!" Katherine said, looking over at the empty Tupperware container at the side of his bed.

"Yeah, but it didn't look like dog food!" Owen said, watching the dog-food-looking stew fall out of his spoon and into the bowl. "Ew, I lost my appetite."

"Just pretend it's… a chocolate chip cookie," Matthew suggested, sitting at the end of the bed.

"But even their chocolate chip cookies are awful," Owen said with blinking eyes.

"You're hopeless, Owen!" Lizzie exclaimed with fake exasperation.

"I'm not hopeless!" Owen defended. "I _hope_ to get out of here soon! Does that count?"

Everyone laughed. That was the Owen they knew: happy, carefree, and fun loving. Even though he was in a hospital bed, living off disgusting hospital food, he was still happy. (Although he refused to wear the hospital gown. Instead he was wearing a black tee shirt and red sweat pants that Troy had brought from home.)

All of a sudden, Lily burst into the room. She was wearing a bright smile and her chest was heaving.

"Sorry I'm late!" She said, putting a saran wrapped plate on Owen's bed. "I was listening to the adults."

"You mean _spying_?" Katherine asked with a laugh.

"No, not _spying_!" Lily said. "_Eavesdropping_!"

Matthew laughed, gave Lily a high five, and said, "That's my girl!"

"What were the adults talking about?" Owen asked, unwrapping the saran wrap to find a jelly sandwich. "Hey! Real food!"

"They were talking about _you_, Owen," Lily said. "They're releasing you in a couple of hours!"

"No way!" Owen said happily. "Lily, I could _kiss _you right now! …But I have a girlfriend… who I love oh so very much… love," Owen said, giving Heather a sideways glance.

Everyone laughed and an old woman, a few feet away yelled, "Shut up! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Kratz," Owen whispered. "You guys better leave. She's cranky when she hasn't had fifteen hours of sleep. …God, two things I won't miss: the food and the old bat in the bed next to me. …I asked the nurses if she was, in fact, human and they swore she was but I'm not sure I believe them."

Everyone tried to muffle their laughs as they said good-bye to Owen and left the room. Heather was last and she said, "See you soon!", kissed him on the cheek, and walked out the door.

Owen sighed and leaned back in his pillows and closed his eyes.

"Thank God I'm getting out of here soon," He muttered to himself and seconds later he felt something connect with his face. "What was that?" He exclaimed and opened his eyes. A pillow lay on the floor besides him. He looked over at Mrs. Kratz who was snoring _loudly_, suddenly fast asleep... without a pillow.

_I _wonder _if she's faking it! _Owen thought sarcastically and threw the pillow to the end of her bed.

He rolled over-- a couple more hours-- enough time to get back to sleep…

…………………

"Freedom!" Owen screamed when he was wheeled out of the hospital (very grudgingly… he really wanted to walk out but it was "standard procedure" and Matthew paid the nurse to make him sit in the wheelchair, so he could flick Owen in the back of the head, and Owen couldn't turn around and punch him).

Owen jumped so quickly out of the wheelchair that Matthew was still pushing it and smashed it into the back of his knees, causing he legs to buckle. Troy caught him just before he hit the ground.

Owen gave a guilty look and sad, "Sorry… knees are a little out of whack… heh."

Katherine hit Matthew on the shoulder and said, "No. Matthew's just too fast."

Matthew gave a sheepish grin and laughed when Owen ran over to the fountain, laughing like crazy. Everyone laughed in fact, at the _17 _year old who was laughing his head off at the fountain.

"Oh my God! I'm free!" Owen said. HE took a handful of water and splashed it at Troy who laughed and said, "Oh! That's how it's going to be?"

He stuck a hand in the water and flung it at Owen who ducked causing the water to hit Lizzie square in the face. She laughed and splashed some at Ryan who flung some at Matthew and so on. The last person to get hit was Kelsi because no one wanted to hit her. She was just too nice.

All ran away from the fountain soaking and laughing and plopped on the grassy area beside the hospital. Everyone was out of breath and itching to go and shivering because of the cold air blowing through. Nothing could ruin this day.

"Okay, promise me, that next time I go to the hospital I won't end up soaked and lying in the grass," Owen said with a tired laugh.

"Can't make that promise, O," Matthew said.

"There better not _be _a next time," Troy said quietly, instantly quieting all the laughter. "I can't stand seeing you in there, Owen. You mean too much to me for me to see you get hurt."

"Well, they'll catch Callie, won't they?" Lizzie asked.

"_Callie_?" Every parent asked in unison.

"They didn't know that bit, did they?" Lizzie asked, a look of stupidity on her face.

"Nope," Katherine sighed.

Suddenly, the group of teens were met with a deluge of questions.

"_Callie?_"

"Callie Greensburg?"

"_She _shot Owen?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Stop!" Owen screamed over the parents' inquiries. "Don't yell at them. Yell at me. I told them not to tell. I didn't want all this… I don't know… police questioning and stuff. She probably has enough grief without the police throwing her in jail."

"Owen…" Troy said soothingly.

Suddenly, Owen began to cry. Troy wrapped his strong arms around Owen's shaking body.

"I know what it's like to loose someone you love," Owen sobbed. "It's awful. He was all she had! I thought about you, Dad, about how you lost Mom and Caroline and all you had left was me! I remember staying up late at night, listening to you cry and wondering what was so troubling. And still, Dad, more than 14 years later, you are still carrying the grief. Think about Callie! She doesn't have _anyone _anymore! No one!"

Owen's sobs pierced the silence for a few minutes only to be met by the wail of a police siren.

"Huh?"

Troy let go of Owen in time to be met by a police officer that grabbed his arms and shoved them roughly behind his back. He pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs and quickly snapped them on his wrists.

Owen shoved his way in between the two men.

"What are you doing?" Owen asked loudly. "Stop!"

"Troy Bolton, you have the right to remain silent and the right to an attorney…" The police officer said, shoving Owen out of the way.

"Don't touch my son," Troy growled.

"You don't seem to have a problem with that," The officer snarled.

"Excuse me?" Troy asked incredulously.

"Which one is your son?" An approaching officer asked.

"Me," Owen said nervously.

"Son, has your father hit, beat, or abused you in _any way _over the last few weeks?" The officer asked.

"What?" Owen said almost laughing. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, son. Just answer the question!"

"No!" Owen said. "Why would you think that?"

"We have been given a report of abuse about Mr. Troy Bolton to his son, Owen Bolton. Unless you are the wrong people and judging by your limp, bruises, and scars, I would think we aren't, Troy Bolton is under arrest."

He shoved Troy into the police car and drove away. Owen standing, dumbstruck, behind it.

**As/n: Okay, weak ending, I know but more will be explained in the third addition to the series: A Twist of Fate. Watch for the trailer! Thanks forever! Keep reading our stories!**

**CoCo**


	20. Chapter 21

**As/n: So, here is A Twist of Fate. Sorry it took so long! Please RR&E! You won't understand this unless you have read In the Blink of an Eye and When an Angel Falls so, please, read those too!  
**

**Chapter 1**

**Unwelcome Visitors **

_Ding dong!_

Heather scrambled to the door in her pajamas and swung it open. It was raining outside and soaking wet, a backpack over his shoulder, and a sleeping bag tucked under his arm, Owen stood on her front porch. He gave a sheepish smile and said, "Shelter for the homeless?"

Heather gave him a sympathetic, soft smile and swung the door open wider. Owen gave her a soft, thankful peck on the cheek before stepping into the house. They both walked silently into the tiny kitchen where Ryan was making spaghetti with a "Kiss the Cook" apron.

"Dad?" Heather asked, her arms crossed over her chest. She always did this when she was: a.) cold or b.) uncomfortable and feeling awkward. "Owen's here."

"Owen!" Ryan exclaimed, stirring the noodles. "Hey. How are you?" He put down his spoon and looked at Owen with a sensitive face. Owen plopped into a chair and said, "Been better."

"Hey, Dad," Heather said with a some-what nervous look at Owen. "Can Owen stay here for a couple of days?"

"Of course!" Ryan said, attempting (but failing) to open a jar of spaghetti sauce. "Under one condition."

"Anything!" Owen said gratefully, taking the jar and twisting it open.

Ryan gave a grin, taking the jar back and said, "You have to sleep in a bed, not in that old sleeping bag."

"Deal," Owen said with an even bigger smile. He grabbed some silverware and set it on the table. He heard the clatter of metal on the floor and whipped around to see Ryan, his hand over his heart.

"You're the son I never had!" Ryan exclaimed. "You're setting the table!"

Heather stuck her tongue out at her father and sat next to Owen as the plate of steaming noodles was set in front of her. Everyone dug in and talked all night. At 9:33 PM, there was a loud knock at the door, which ceased all the laughter.

"I wonder if we're taking another refugee?" Ryan joked, messing Owen's hair up like he did when Owen was three. When Owen gave a nervous, awkward smile, he added, "Stay as long as you want."

Ryan walked to the front door and opened it a crack and then, awestruck, he swung the door open wider to reveal a too skinny, short-haired blonde with black Chanel sunglasses.

She pulled up the sunglasses to reveal a pair of shining gray eyes. She put the glasses on top of her blown out blonde hair and said, "Hello, Ryan."

Her voice sent shivers up Owen's spine. It was so icy, so void of warmth and friendliness. Her eyes bore into his with a feeling of hatred. Owen looked away and stared at Heather who looked just as awestruck as Ryan. Owen slipped his hand into Heather's and gave it a squeeze so that she would know that he was with her. She gently squeezed it back, her eyes locked on the woman that she stared at with such awe and hatred.

"Tsk, tsk," The woman said, stepping, uninvited, into the house. Her high-heeled boots left water all over the worn, scratched hardwood. "How have you been able to pay the bills?"

"Emily?" Owen whispered but obviously too loudly because the woman turned around and said, "Yeah and who are you?"

"I-I'm," Owen stammered but he was interrupted by Heather.

"Don't answer her, Owen," Heather said, defeating the purpose of not answering the question. "You don't owe her that."

Emily gave a cruel, hard laugh and said, "You taught her well, huh, Ryan?"

Ryan was staring at the woman with such hatred, such spite, that Owen was surprised. He had never seen Ryan look so angry or upset. In fact, as he looked for Heather to Ryan, he had never seen the family in such a state of anger before and he had known them for seventeen years.

Something in Owen's mind clicked. Emily… Emily Donavan. _Ryan's ex-wife… _

_Heather's mother._

"What do you want, Emily?" Ryan spat.

"I want you to see a lawyer," Emily replied coolly, pulling a paper out of her Prada purse smoothly. "You haven't been sending your checks for two months!"

"Yeah, because that's what we agreed on!" Ryan said, ripping the paper out of her hand. "Fifteen years! I would pay divorce money for fifteen years and fifteen years is up. I don't have to pay you any more."

Emily laughed and said, "Read the papers, Ryan."

Ryan shot her a look of fury and turned his face to the paper. He face drained off color as his eyes scanned the paper. His hands started to shake. He looked at Emily with dull eyes and said, "Full custody?"

"What!?" Heather yelled.

"I feel that you've had her for fifteen years, it's my turn," Emily said taking the paper and stuffing it back into her purse.

"_Turn_?" Ryan asked. "She's a human being not a pair of shoes, Emily!"

"Yes, but that _human being _is my daughter and, I feel I should take care of her!" Emily exclaimed.

"You are as inadequate of a parent as you wearing fifteen years ago when you left, Emily. I don't trust you with my daughter," Ryan snarled.

"Say that in court," Emily said. "By the way, who's the freak?"

Owen gave an annoyed smile and said, "The freak's name is Owen and he'd say it was nice meeting you but…"

Heather sniggered a laugh. Owen was known for his sarcasm and he was smarting off to a woman who the last time he had seen her, he was in diapers. Owen still hadn't let go of Heather's hand and Heather didn't mind. The warmth was comforting.

"Excuse me?"

Owen turned to leave. He didn't want to get in the middle of a... sort-of- family fight.

"Where are you going, you little brat?" Emily spat.

Owen was shocked to hear her call after him and Heather gasped in annoyance. Owen turned around and said, "I'm going to Disney World!"

Emily looked so angry. She raised her hand as if she was going to slap Owen. Owen braced himself but Ryan grabbed Emily's wrist before she got the chance to bring her hand down.

"If you touch a hair on that boy's head, so help me God, I will call the police," Ryan snarled, thrusting her hand down. Owen had never seen Ryan so angry before in his life (as it had been mentioned) but, he had also never seen Ryan threaten anyone before… and mean it.

Emily just gave Ryan a look that said _How dare you!_ and stomped out the door. Before she slammed it shut she said, "And don't forget, court… on the 11th!"

The house was silent for a few minutes as everyone took in and tried to process the fact that Ryan was being sued for full custody. Heather was upset, to say the least, because ever since she was young she had hated her mother, for reasons no one but herself had ever known…

"Thanks, Ryan," Owen said. "You know… my dad's in jail for child abuse and if it became true now…"

"Owen, don't," Heather said, eyes brimming with tears. "Don't even finish that sentence."

"Oh, Heather, I didn't mean to…"

"You're father would _never _do anything to hurt you, Owen," Ryan said. "You know that, right?"

"Of course I do," Owen said quickly but softly, using his thumb to wipe a tear off of Heather's cheek. "But the police won't believe me."

"Sure they will, Owen," Ryan said. "You've just got to talk to them and…"

"No," Owen interrupted. "No, I tried. That's where I was before I came here. They say I'm just trying to cope with what happened and I don't need to hide it anymore or some other load of crud that isn't true."

"Oh, Owen," Heather said, pulling Owen into a hug for a single tear had dropped down his face and onto his shirt, leaving a dark spot that would never seem to leave.

"I'm going to go call a lawyer," Ryan said. "Why don't you guys set up Owen's bed in the living room?"

"On the pullout?" Heather asked. "That thing is so uncomfortable!"

"I don't care, really," Owen said, shoving a hand into his pocket.

"If he sleeps in it, I do, too," Heather said defiantly. Ryan gave a nervous look and said, "Well, Heather, if Owen doesn't sleep on the pullout, where does he sleep?"

Heather hesitated and said, "Fine, but I'm sleeping in here with him."

Ryan nodded and said, "Okay, but lights out at 10:30."

"Thanks, Ry," Owen said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I really appreciate this."

Ryan gave a curt nod and sighed, looking right into Owen's chocolate brown eyes. "You look more and more like your father everyday, you know that?"

Owen gulped back tears and nodded, shaking one tear loose from its watery prison and sent it cascading down his cheek. "Yeah," He rasped.

Ryan gave Owen's shoulder a pat and ascended up the stairs. His shoes made loud '_thuds_' on the floor as he went, leaving Heather and Owen alone in the foyer.

They both turned without a word and walked to the linen closet, pulling out spare blankets and pillows. Owen quickly pulled out the couch and tossed the blankets on it. He made sure to give Heather the good pillow and the warm blanket. It was supposed to get cold that night.

Heather smiled as she got in the bed as she was already in her pajamas. Owen, though, was still in his wet clothes and started hacking a cough. Heather shot up and said, "Oh my gosh, Owen, are you okay? That sounds really bad!"

"Yeah," Owen said through his coughs. "I'm fine. My lungs are a little weird after… well, after all that stuff."

Owen shot her a scared look that Heather didn't notice. Whenever the shooting was brought up, Heather's eyes would fill with tears and she would start to sniffle as she still felt the whole thing was her fault.

Owen pulled on a pair of basketball shorts over his boxers and started to pull off his shirt when Heather said, "What are you doing?"

Owen looked surprised and said, "Oh, I sleep with my shirt off but I'll keep it on! No big deal…"

"No, it's fine," Heather said. "I just didn't know what you were doing."

Owen immediately regretted telling her about this because now he would _have _to take off his shirt and she would see the bandages, some still left over from the creek incident.

"Actually," Owen said hesitantly. "It's going to be cold tonight so…"

"I don't care about the bandages, Owen," Heather said, reading his mind.

"I just-huh?"

"I don't know," Heather said, fiddling with the blanket. "I've gotten used to them over the past few weeks and… don't worry about me."

"Nah," Owen said. "It _is _going to be cold."

He climbed onto the pullout and wrapped his arm around her. He laid his head on her shoulder. Then, Owen spoke, his voice coming out muffled next to her neck.

"Thanks."

Heather sighed and sank into the pillows. "Don't mention it."

Within minutes, she had fallen fast asleep. Owen propped himself up on his elbow and watched her sleep, her chest slowly rising and falling with her breathing. Owen brushed a stray hair behind her ear and got out of the pullout.

He walked to the other side of the pullout and picked Heather up bridal style, making sure he didn't wake her. He didn't, so he climbed the stairs and laid her on her own bed.

Owen pulled the green comforter over her and gently kissed her cheek. He leaned in, tears slipping out of his eyes, and whispered, "I love you, Heather."

It wasn't long until he had to leave her forever. Owen had no idea how to break the news. Be strong, he kept saying to himself. She'll need more support than you will. But Owen knew that, in the end, he would be the one who would need someone to hang onto, to help him through the day.

And he could've sworn, as he shut off the lights, he saw a smile curl on Heather's lips.

………….HSM HSM HSM……………

The next day the rain was still dripping from the clouds like a broken faucet, casting gray shadows over the neighborhood. Owen stared out the window, his forehead pressed against the cold glass, breath fogging the space in front of him. The rain pelted the sheet of glass in front of his face as Owen watched flowerbeds drown in rain and cars throw the water into the yards.

The house was almost silent except for the crackle of the fire and the low hum of music that softly went through the house from the speakers. Owen sighed as he turned his body away from the window. Heather sat by the fire, illuminated by its glow, a book perched on her crossed knees. It was dark outside, the only light source was the firelight and the cast of the dark sky through the window.

Owen smiled softly but soon began to hack a cough. He covered his mouth with his fist but Heather had heard the worst of it.

"Are you okay?" She asked, looking up from her book.

"I'm fine," Owen said, hitting his chest with his fist. "A little congestion." But he started coughing again, this time with more force and he doubled over onto the ground.

"Owen!" Heather shouted, scrambling over to him.

"I'm-_cough-_ okay," Owen said. "Could you just-_cough, cough_- get my inhaler?"

Heather ran into the kitchen and yanked open the medicine cabinet (they kept medicine and glasses in the same cupboard, most of the medicine was Owen's.). She searched through and grabbed Owen's inhaler. Once it had been safely put into Owen's hand, she relaxed and collapsed at his side.

"You're asthma's been flaring up a lot, hasn't it?" She asked.

"A bit," Owen said with another cough.

"I'm worried about you, O," Heather said, turning on her side to face him.

"Don't be," Owen said. "I'm great."

_Except I could be dying._

Suddenly, a loud knock was heard at the door. Heather's head darted up and she looked at Owen. "Are you expecting anyone?"

Owen shook his head and answered the door. He was smiling but the smile faded as he saw who was standing at the door. Heather walked up behind him, saying, "Who is it…"

But she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw an unexpected visitor at the door.

Callie Greensburg.

"You make a noise and I'll shoot him," Callie said menacingly, having pulled Owen close to her. Owen's face paled and his eyes flashed a sense of horror as she took out a gun and stuck it up to his temple. She cocked it and said, "Let me in."

**As/n: OHHHH! You didn't think she'd be back, did you? What is going on with Owen? What's happening with our favorite couple?** **Will Emily gain full custody? Only I know, so… yeah review with some guesses (and please PM jump-to-the-rhythm with ideas if you have any. I'd love to have some of the reviewers ideas in here! If you can't find jump-to-the-rhythm, look in our favorites list!) Thanks, CoCo**


	21. Chapter 22

**As/n: So, what happened so far was that Callie has a gun up to Owen's head… not much.**

**Chapter 2**

**Poison**

When the door shut, Heather's mind went crazy. Thoughts can twenty at a time, mixing together and spreading dread in her mind. Callie roughly pushed Owen onto the couch and turned to Heather. Heather took this as a sign to sit down, so she did. She clasped onto Owen's hand tightly, fingernails digging into his hand.

Owen held hers, its warmth only spreading so much comfort, as he cast a hate filled glance at Callie who was pulling the curtains closed with a rasp and hurrying to the door, clicking the lock shut.

Heather was desperately praying for her father to come home from the theatre downtown and call the police to get the wretched woman away from her. But as it was, it was going to take a long time to make sure that after the theatre's flood, there was no water damage on the stage. Ryan wouldn't be home for hours.

"Why are you doing this?" Owen asked quietly.

Callie whipped around, outraged that someone would ask her that question. Heather noticed something about her, something different. But she found her answer when she looked into Callie's cold, dark eyes. They lost their shine, their brightness.

Heather wondered how long it had been since Callie went crazy…

"_Why_?" Callie hissed, stepping up to Owen's expressionless face. "Because that little _brat _right there _murdered _my son and now she's going to pay."

Callie brought the gun dangerously close to Heather's forehead, her finger resting on the trigger. Callie's eyes got a new gleam, and they flashed in the darkness of the room. "Say good night."

Just as she pulled the trigger, Owen darted up and grabbed Callie's wrist, forcing the gun upwards. The bullet left a hole through the ceiling and Callie's bony elbow flew back, smashing Owen on the jaw where a fresh bruise was starting to fade.

Owen drew back in pain, clutching his jaw but he collected himself quickly, only to find Callie with a gun at his temple. He didn't move and kept his stony expression. "Any last words?" Callie whispered.

Owen didn't speak. Heather didn't speak either but her eyes welled with tears of hatred and pain. She watched Callie as Callie spoke to her, "You'll watch him die, knowing it was all your fault."

She stretched out the last words to play with Heather's mind and toy with her emotions. Callie turned her attention to Owen, poising her finger on the trigger. A single tear fell down Owen's cheek. Suddenly, Heather spoke.

"You don't want to kill him, Callie," She said. "You wouldn't."

"And why wouldn't I?" Callie spat, not moving the gun.

"Because Owen's is someone's _son_," Heather said. "And someone loves him, the way you loved Clark. I know, it's hard for you to let go but you would never want to bring that pain upon someone else, would you? You'd be hurting me, sure, but think about Troy, Callie. He's lost his wife and his daughter. If you took Owen away, he would have no one."

"_I_ have no one!" Callie shouted, tears hitching her voice. The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Heather shook her head to loosen the tears that we coming to her eyes.

"And you're wishing you're pain onto someone else," Heather said. "Someone who is absolutely innocent."

Callie's expression didn't soften but she did get more aggravated when she realized Heather was right. But she turned her head and looked Owen in the eyes. Heather sat, awestruck, watching Callie. After all she said, after every true word…

Callie raised the gun in the air and brought the handle down on Owen's skull, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious. Heather shouted in surprise and flew to the ground. She landed on her knees, turning Owen's head towards her. She turned to Callie with tear filled eyes.

"He's not dead," Callie hissed.

"How could you?" Heather asked, standing up, walking closely to Callie. "How could you do that to Owen? He's innocent! He did _nothing _to you or your son!"

"Because, dear, I want you to feel what I feel. I want you to wake up in the middle of the night screaming because you know that you caused your precious little boyfriend this much pain."

She nudged Owen's lifeless form with her foot and sighed.

"So young, so handsome," Callie said, clicking her tongue. "It's just too bad that youth was wasted."

Heather then started to cry. Blinded by tears, she knelt down next to Owen, who was still out cold. She cradled his head in her lap, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I will never leave you," She whispered, giving him a kiss on his forehead. "I love you."

In the mess, Callie had snuck into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of her pocket. She had bought it this morning, claiming she was having a pest problem. The bottle was filled to the brim with Raid Bug Poisoning.

Carefully, she twisted off the top and the cap to the Evans's milk carton. Silently, she poured the Raid bottle's contents into the milk and capped both containers with an evil smile.

Callie Greensburg would get her revenge.

…

Ryan was stuck in traffic, halfway across town. Lights blared in his eyes, horns honked in his ears and the line of automobiles seemed to fade into nothingness as it curved around every street corner. The rain pounded his windshield, his windshield wipers moved like crazy.

Ryan stared longingly into a Dierberg's parking lot. **(Dierberg's is a grocery store.) **It was then he realized that the refrigerator was almost empty except for a few condiments, a carton of milk, and a bunch of leftovers.

He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his home phone number. There was a long pause and no one answered which was very odd. Heather or Owen were always bound to pick up the phone.

He dialed Heather's cell phone but found it turned off, which aggravated him. _The one time she turns it off…_So he dialed Owen's cell and on the third ring, there was an answer but no one spoke.

"Hello?" Ryan asked. "O, you there?"

"Ryan?"

That wasn't Owen's voice. It wasn't even Heather's voice. It was a woman's, definitely, one Ryan had heard before. He couldn't place a finger on it. But it _was_ familiar…

"Callie?"

"What's it to you?"

"What are you doing with Owen's cell phone?"

Callie gave a long, cruel laugh in the background her heard a yell.

"Dad! _Help_!"

"Heather?"

Then the line went dead…

…

"I told you not to speak!" Callie screamed, smashing the phone into the table causing it to break into pieces. Heather gulped but stood her ground. There was nothing Callie could do now. Her dad was going to get help… if he heard her.

Owen stirred on the ground and gently pulled his upper body off of the floor. He rubbed his head and checked his hand for blood. Heather shouted, "Owen!" and went to help him.

Owen lifted himself off the ground, gingerly testing each leg. He winced as he leaned on his left leg but stopped when he heard Callie step forward. Owen puts his arms behind his back, trapping Heather in between them.

Callie raised the gun slowly, her hollowed eyes gleaming in the light.

"Say good bye, Owen…"

Suddenly, a splintering crack was heard and a loud thud followed. Then, as team of four policemen came running into the house, pulling handguns out of their utility belts screaming, "This is the police! Put your hands up!"

Heather sighed a sigh of relief and Owen turned around to hug her. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" Heather asked. "You got knocked out!"

"Hey, I've been stabbed and shot before," Owen pointed out, his chin resting on top of her head. He breathed in her fruity shampoo and let out a tired breath. "You must've been scared."

"I didn't know what to do!" Heather shouted through her tears as the police cuffed Callie and dragged her out of the house. Her head was leaned in on Owen's chest and he was stroking her hair gently. "I was more worried about you, if you were okay, but when she turned the gun at me I thought about my life and… I haven't lived long enough, Owen."

"I know," Owen said. "I have that feeling all the time."

"Oh, look at me!" Heather said, wiping her face with the back of her palm. "You've had it so much worse and I-I've had _one little _scare…"

"That wasn't little, Heather," Owen said seriously. "She could've shot you."

"If you wouldn't've been here…"

"This wouldn't've happened."

"No, it was my fault."

"How?" Owen asked, pulling away from her to look into her tear filled eyes. "If I hadn't confused you, you wouldn't have been Clark's girlfriend and, if you hadn't have been Clark's girlfriend, then wouldn't've broken up with him. If you wouldn't have broken up with him, he wouldn't have tried to get revenge and end up dead."

They sat in silence and Heather whispered, "You really think it was _your _fault?"

"It was."

"Owen, if anyone, _I'm _to blame," Heather said. "_I _was the idiot dumb enough to go out with him!"

"Heather, I need to tell you something…"

"Heather!"

Ryan was in the doorway, the door lying splintered at his feet. He rushed over to her and gave her a hug. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad," Heather said, hugging him back.

Owen stepped away and was met by a police officer that spoke in a low, raspy voice. "So, you guys related?"

"No," Owen said. "No, we're just friends."

"Well, the way you were protecting her…"

"Nah," Owen interrupted. "We're friends."

"Hey, haven't I seen you before?" Owen looked him over. He had a busy brown moustache that made Owen's skin crawl, a portly figure, and smoldering brown eyes.

"Yeah, you're the one who wouldn't let me see my dad!" Owen exclaimed.

"Look, kid," The officer said, throwing his hands up. "Some people just need to admit…"

"My dad _doesn't_, _won't, _and _hasn't _ever beaten me!" Owen said. "Why don't you understand that?"

"Look, your dad can't hurt you know, kid," The officer said. "You can admit it!"

"Why would I lie like that?" Owen asked, shaking his head in disgust. But just then, Ryan came up and gave Owen a hug.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked. "Heather told me what happened."

"Yeah," Owen said, returning the hug. "I'm fine."

"You want to go get your head checked out?" Ryan asked.

"No!" Owen said too quickly and too loudly. So he softly added, "No. It's no big deal. I mean, what's a hit to the head?"

"A hit to the head?" The officer asked. "That could be serious!"

"I've been hit harder," Owen said, scratching the back of his neck.

"By your father?"

"_No_!" Ryan, Heather, and Owen all screamed.

"Some people just don't give up, do they?" Owen muttered as all the police left the house.

"Well, it looks like Owen's going to have to sleep upstairs tonight," Ryan said. "And it looks like I need a new front door."

Everyone laughed.

…

Owen sighed as he looked out the window in Heather's room. He was seated in the window seat, watching the pale moonlight slice through the rain and onto the street. He was free of the venom that had been haunting him in his dreams, the gunshot that woke him up in the middle of the night, causing him to scream.

That poison was Callie Greensburg…

And now he was free.

**As/n: Okay, a little scary and a little fluffy! RR&E! And who drinks the poison??? Hmm… must wait and find out!**


	22. Chapter 23

**As/n: Well, wasn't that last chapter fluffy! Now, here's some more drama. As you can tell, this story will have a LOT of it. So please RR&E! This is dedicated to my friend, Lauren Waterbury for reasons that I will tell later.**

**Chapter 3**

**Blight**

Pale moonlight flooded through the windows, bathing everything in its path, bleaching the room white. The stone walls were cold against a huddled figure's back, his eyes about as void of warmth as the rock. His clothes were unkempt, his shaggy hair awry. It was obvious by one look at this man that he didn't belong there, not with the murder and the thieves. He was no thug or ruffian, brute or monster. He was a man, trapped in hell on earth. A man who needed to get back to his family.

A disturbance in the next cell brought the man out of his nightmarish reverie and he shuffled to the window, rubbing his tired eyes. His face had a beard of three days off of shaving and his hair was dirty and dry. Although he wasn't clad in orange, he was a prisoner, a common criminal, but the thing was…

He was innocent.

He was as sinless as a dove, as innocent as a child, but he felt as trapped as a dog, locked into a cage. His cage was lonely and cold, offering no comfort or feeling of a home. His barrack made him ache and sink was rusty and old, offering hardly any clean water.

He felt blighted, scarred, ruined, by the horror of this place, of this prison. Confined of freedom, blamed of hurt, this man was destroyed by the mere atmosphere of this awful place. The depression that filled the halls, the gloom that seeped through the bars, this place left little happiness, little room to feel joy or comfort.

This place was hell and Troy Bolton needed to escape.

………

_Take a chance_

_Just dive in_

_Let the water guide you when_

_Your heart feels empty_

_You have no one to hold_

_Jump in the water_

_And even though it's cold_

_It'll bring you up a mountain_

_Where soon you'll reach the top_

_And there you can scream it,_

_"I want it to stop!"_

_So take the final plunge_

_Let the water help you start_

_And then someday, it will lead you to your heart_

Heather looked over her poem with a sense of dismay. It wasn't one of her best works, but nonetheless, it was. She folded it up into the bind of a book and shoved the book back into the bookshelf. She sighed as looked over at the incentive of the poem.

Owen was fast asleep on the couch, one hand dangling over the side, bangs covering his shut brown eyes. His chest rose and fell raggedly, which worried Heather a lot. His asthma was getting worse and he never seemed to mind it. Heather knew he was just trying to be brave but someday courage was just going to have to stop and he was going to have the face the facts.

Something was wrong.

Something was _really _wrong and he needed to understand that. He couldn't let it stay that way or something bad could happen. Heather shuddered. Like Owen needed that.

Then, Owen slowly opened one sleepy eye. He sat up but suddenly became overtaken by weariness and fell back onto the couch. Heather made her way over, eyes clouded with pity. She gently sat on the edge of the couch and wiped away Owen's bangs.

"How are you feeling?" She asked after planting a kiss on his forehead.

"Better," Owen said. "Thanks. How about you?"

"I wasn't sick, Owen."

"You _are _sick, Heather," Owen pointed out.

He had gotten sick last night, after all of the happenings in the Evans' household, with a splitting headache and a one hundred and three fever. He had slept upstairs, in Ryan's study on the red couch. Heather had made a makeshift bed on the floor and helped Owen all night, especially when his headaches came back.

She knew something was up.

"With what?"

"With jealousy, 'cause you know that I'm prettier than you," Owen said, finding some strength to pull himself up halfway and having Heather help him with the rest of the way.

"I hate seeing you like this, Owen," Heather said seriously.

"Like what?"

"Sick," Heather said. "Tired."

"I hate being like this, Heather," Owen said, fatigue ebbing at his handsome features. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes. "It's kind of a lifestyle by now, Heather. I mean, if I'm not sick I'm hurt and if I'm not hurt, I'm dying…"

"Dying?"

"Well, you know what I mean!" Owen said. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"Oh!" Heather said with over the top enthusiasm. "I have an idea! Go see a doctor!"

Owen groaned. "Heather…"

"Oh, come on, O," Heather pleaded. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine!"

"You just said so yourself, you're always sick…"

"Yeah but this is little stuff…"

"Is there something _more _than this little stuff?"

Owen opened his eyes but didn't move his head so he was staring at the whitewashed ceiling. He could tell her… but not now. Now was too soon.

Owen sighed. "No."

"Because if there is you can tell me," Heather said. Owen nodded his head. They heard feet downstairs and the shouts of a friend, "Hello? Owen? Heather?"

"Katherine…" Heather said.

"Maybe if we stay still enough, she'll go away," Owen said, shutting his eyes again. This was always a joke with the gang. They acted like that hated each other when in reality; they would die for each other. (Owen has shown this quality many a times…)

"I brought food!"

Heather scrambled off of the bed and raced to the door. She stopped and looked at Owen with sad eyes.

"Go ahead," Owen said. "I'll be right down."

"Do you need any help?" Heather asked.

"C'mon!" Katherine's voice pleaded. "It's double chocolate chunk brownies!"

"Nah," Owen said. "I'll be down in a minute."

Heather blew him a kiss and hurried down the staircase. Owen smiled and grimaced as he tried to pull himself off the couch. _It's getting worse. _He was tried and could hardly move without straining his muscles and falling with exhaustion. He had a splitting headache and he felt very woozy.

He carefully made his way down the staircase where he knees almost gave out from under him. He collected himself after his head hit the wall and carried himself down the stairs with absolutely no coordination whatsoever.

When he reached the kitchen, Katherine was doling huge brownies onto plates and passing one to Heather. She smiled and questioned, "You want one?"

Owen shook his head and both girls gasped.

"How _dare _you not want my brownies!" Katherine said in mock anger.

"It's a _brownie_, Owen!" Heather gasped, moving the steaming plate in circles under her nose. "Just from the oven."

Owen was feeling too sick to move so he plopped his head on his arms that were folded across the wooden table. Katherine walked over and put a brownie in front of him. "I'll cry if you don't eat one."

Owen groaned and said, "But it always goes straight to my thighs!"

"I'm sensing some sarcasm, young man!" Heather scolded, her hands on her hips. Katherine folded her arms against her chest and exclaimed, "If you don't eat that brownie then you will get no carrot sticks for a week!"

"_Nooooooo!_" Owen screamed, as loud as his splitting headache would allow him to. He chuckled and said, "No peanut oils, right?"

"What, you think I'm an idiot?" Katherine asked. She, in light of the events, put an apron around her waist and shook her finger at Owen. "Now don't leave that table until you're done eating that fat filled brownie, you hear me?"

"Yes, Mommy." Owen fell silent. "Mommy" was a sensitive word around him, if he spoke it at least. He'd never been able to use the word "Mom" since he was three and bringing himself to say it, letting the word fumble from his lips, it was painful to him, like living a nightmare…

"Milk anyone?" Heather asked, pulling some from the refrigerator.

"No," Owen said. He looked at his brownie, unsure of how he would eat it. He felt too sick to eat.

"Yeah, none for me," Katherine said, sitting next to Owen.

"Good, I don't want any either," Heather said, placing it back in the fridge. She had just gotten it out to break the silence.

**(As/n: Well, that was a rip-off…)**

The phone rang and Owen slowly, painfully (which he had hidden to the best of his acting ability), rose to get it. When he answered, Matthew's voice screamed from the phone, "I'm in love! I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!"

Owen held the receiver away from his ear as not to disturb his headache but then said, "With whom?"

"Katherine."

"You're in love with Katherine…'s shoes?" Owen said loudly but then realizing that Katherine was sitting at the kitchen table. "Which pair?"

"…She's sitting right there, isn't she?"

"Yup."

"_I'm going to kill you_!" Matthew shouted.

"Love you, too, schnookums," Owen said, putting the phone on his shoulder and pushing it to his ear. He walked over to the table and grabbed his brownie, just barely taking a bite.

"Bolton…"

"Don't call me that," Owen interrupted, a shiver traveling up his spine. "That's what Clark called me."

"…Sorry. Hey, uh, how are you?"

"I'm ... great and uh... well, no, I'm not," Owen ran a finger around the collar on his light blue polo. HE gulped and said, "When I was at the hospital, I got some news..."

"What kind of news?" Matthew inquired.

_There's no easy way to do this..._

_"I have leukemia."_

**As/n: Ohhhh... a cliffie! Sorry, must wait until the next chapter. I know, leukemia is a common plot _but _this is dedicated to my friend Lauren who had leukemia and I thought that this would make her happier. Thanks, review please!**


	23. Chapter 24

**As/n: I'm sure you don't want to hear about my pitiful life and want to go to the story. I won't keep you!**

**Chapter 4**

**The ABCs of Life**

Katherine gasped, Matthew went silent, and Heather dropped the plate she was holding it, causing it to shatter sending glass across the hardwood. The room went quiet and Owen could only hear Matthew's breathing as it went through the phone. He muttered that he was going to be right over and hung up the phone. Owen slowly lowered the phone from his ear and hung it up. Facing the girls, his eyes filled with mourning. He brought himself to a chair and sat down.

He brought his shaking hands to his head and held his fingers to his temples. He headache beat slowly but steadily against them causing his head to throb. He let out a shuddering breath and Heather walked over to him and placed her shaking hand on the small of his back.

An unspoken conversation of sorrow went between the two and Katherine threw herself lightly into a chair, her body shaking with a mix of anger and distress. They heard the rustle of a tarp as Matthew hurtled into the house through the door that had been knocked down the night before. He skidded into the kitchen and looked at all three of the teenagers.

And very suddenly, Katherine broke down into tears. Matthew made his way around the table and she stood up, wiping her eyes sadly. Matthew pulled her into an embrace, kissed the top of her head, and rested his chin on her auburn hair. Ever so slightly, they swayed, Matthew shushing Katherine to calm her tears.

Owen stood up slowly and looked Heather in the eyes. Heather noticed a difference in them: fatigue, sorrow, dread, and an expression that had never been shown in Owen.

Fear.

Fear filled those shining chocolate brown eyes. You could clearly see that Owen was scared, that he was terrified to be in his position. It would be a natural thing for many but to Heather, it scared _her _knowing that Owen, her boyfriend, her hero…

Was terrified.

Then, she started to cry and she leaned her head on Owen's shoulder, letting the tears drip onto his shirt, dying patches dark. Owen ran his hand through her hair and absentmindedly stroked the blonde tresses as he thought of the horrors soon to be fulfilled.

The cancer had taken over his body. He was dying.

Dying.

It seemed like such a final word, with such finite meaning. It was restricted into one meaning, only one that mattered. Gone. Owen Bolton was soon to be gone, life taken from cancer.

Cancer.

Another word that people cringed at the sound of. A word that destroyed lives and left people empty. Just two syllables that cracked even the strongest of men. For letters that torn at people's hearts until they felt ready to slip, trip, and fall to their ends.

Dying, Cancer, and Fear:

Those were just the ABCs of life.

…

Owen traveled quickly through the streets, feet pounding heavily on the pavement. He was not on a run; he was not doing this for pleasure but for facts: the fact that his father had to know.

It killed Owen to have to come here, come to this prison where his father was in so much pain but to _add _to his misery, Owen would never forgive himself. But to let his father sit in denial, Owen would never let himself live…

Se he traveled into the police station, head held high, searching for a beacon of hope.

When he was ushered into the sad little room to talk to his father, Owen felt all color drain out of his face. He looked at his dad: tired, ravenous, dirty and unkempt and things were only going to get worse.

As if to make things harder, Owen was to speak to his father through a sheet of bulletproof glass. The glass made him angry. His father couldn't hold him, or touch him, or make him feel loved. He could just sit on the other side of the glass, watching Owen as he hopelessly explained to his father that cancer had invaded and triumphed over his body.

His father's voice startled Owen when he heard it. It had lost its happiness, its perk. It was hollow and dead, negated of contentment and bliss.

"Owen," The voice seemed to plead. "How are you?"

"Dad," Owen swallowed the lump in his throat. "Dad, I need to tell you something…"

"I can't stand it here, O," Troy said unhappily. "I want to be home with you."

"Dad…"

"Is there anyway that you can convince the officers I'm innocent?" Troy begged.

"I need to say…"

"I miss you, Owen," Troy said, tears running down his cheeks. "I want to come home. I don't see myself at home in a long time and I want you to know I love you and I would do _anything_…"

"_Dad, I have leukemia!" _Owen shouted as the tears escaped their watery prison.

There was a loud silence. Yes, silences are just that: _silent_. But this one was different, oh so different, as it seemed to echo in the room, bouncing around in Owen's mind. It seemed it ring in his ears and rattle his bones, throwing his stomach around his body.

"Well, say something," Owen sniffled.

"I-I…" Troy stammered. Suddenly, an officer appeared behind him and grabbed him by the upper arm.

"Dad!" Owen shouted. "Don't go!"

Troy disappeared behind the glass and Owen let out a cry of anguish. He buried his head in his arms and sobbed but he heard the crack of a door and he turned around.

His father was coming into the room, to comfort his long-loved son.

They ran to meet each other and pulled into a long embrace, both sobbing uncontrollably. Owen's head was shaking on his father's shoulder who consoled him the way Owen consoled Heather: with gentleness and love. They didn't want to let go as the minutes passed but soon, their eyes met.

"I'm scared," Owen whispered.

Troy's response was wrapping his strong arms tightly around him and saying, "I am, too."

Their tears rang in the room, spilling everywhere…

Tears.

Just another ABC of life.

…

A lot of consolation was spread to Owen when he got back to the Evans' house. Everyone was there, adults and teenagers alike. All looked sad in their own way, some able to hide their feelings and others with tears of angst running down their cheeks.

Most of the time they were there they were silent, all saying words of comfort and grief but other times they were loud and cursing everything for what was happening. Owen was nowhere in sight. Ever since he got back from the jail he was very distant with everyone. He hid upstairs while everyone was in the kitchen, having a get-together… _for him._

"Why Owen?" Chad asked suddenly, his hands on his knees, sitting in a chair with a posture of dread. "What did he do to deserve this?"

"The kid's done nothing wrong," Kelsi said, rubbing Charlie's head.

"If anything," Jason said, hoisting the seven-year-old Emmett onto his hip. "He deserves an award."

"I wish there was something we could do," Sharpay said, putting an arm over Lily's shoulders.

Heather let out an audible sob and Ryan gave her a small hug. Everyone looked over as Heather began to speak.

"He's done so much for me," Heather sobbed. "He has risked his life innumerable times, he's been a help, a consolidation… he's been a friend." She looked at all of her friends with heartbreaking eyes. "And he needs us… but there's nothing we can do."

"Just be there," Came a voice from the doorway.

Everyone turned and saw Owen, still in his jeans and blue polo, leaning against the doorframe. He stepped silently into the kitchen and said, "I don't need comfort, I don't need gifts, I need… I need company. I need family. That's all you guys can give to me. I need a mother, a father, I need _someone _who will help me fight this battle." Tears slipped down his cheeks. "I need you."

Family.

Just another thing that helped people pull through this twisted thing we call life.

Friends.

The people who guide us in this world and help us when we're weak. The ones who bring us up the mountains and help us realize who we are.

Dying, fear, family, friends, tears… that's what we call life.

The newly-put-in front door squeaked and Owen whipped around.

His father was standing in the doorway.

**As/n: Happy-ish ending??? I thought so! Well, yes, I'll admit, I almost cried writing this chapter. The father-son moment? Man, it killed me! Review, please! This chapter is not the longest but their actions speak louder than words!**


	24. Chapter 25

**As/n: Hey, I understand some people are confused about parent/kid thing. Sorry about that. Here is the parent/kid chart. Of course, Gabriella, Caroline, and Luke are deceased but I feel I should add them.**

**Troy and Gabriella**

Owen (17)

Caroline (-)

**Chad and Taylor**

Matthew (17)

Lizzie (16)

**Sharpay and Zeke**

Lily (13)

Luke (-)

**Kelsi and Jason**

Katherine (17)

Charlotte (aka Charlie) (7)

Emmett (7)

**Ryan and (ex-wife) Emily**

Heather (17)

**Sorry about the confusion. This chapter is going to be a little humorous (because, God knows, this group needs some humor!) Oh, and right now I'm kind of pretending like, there's _no _school because school isn't needed right now. But don't worry. East High will return!**

**Chapter 5**

**The Great Bird Jump**

It was a Thursday morning when Owen decided to drink thirteen cups of coffee.

There's one thing you really need to know about Owen. He and caffeine do _not _mix very well. It all started when Owen woke up at 2:30 AM, and I feel I should mention, he was screaming. He had another bad dream that night. There was a fire… and a lot of it.

He made his way into the kitchen blindly, stepping on debris and clothes cluttering the floor. He opened up the refrigerator and shielded his eyes against the blinding light. _I need something to calm me down. T_o his dismay, the fridge was almost empty. Owen scowled and searched the cabinets when something caught his eye.

Maxwell House Coffee was staring him down. A white coffee maker seemed to mock him and Owen could've sworn it was whispering, "Drink some! Drink some!" And so Owen did… He drank the entire contents of the coffee grounds left in the jar.

So after thirteen cups of coffee and a Snickers bar he managed to dig out from the back of the fridge, Owen decided to go on a run. Not just any run. A run that led straight into Heather's front door and into her bedroom… at 3:45 in the morning.

…

Heather was sleeping soundly in her bed, dreaming about a nice little rabbit trying to give her some lemonade. She politely refused the rabbit's offer and it infuriated the rabbit. The rabbit jumped on her head and started shaking her. No matter how loud Heather screamed, the rabbit wouldn't stop.

In fact… Heather seemed to be wide-awake and the shaking didn't stop…

Heather opened up her eyes and let out a scream, turning her body quickly. Owen, who had been the culprit of the shaking, fell off the side of the bed and hit the floor laughing his head off.

"Oh my gosh, Owen!" Heather screamed. She went on the floor next to Owen who was still in a fit of laughing hysterics. He gave Heather a wide-eyed look and started to giggle madly. He pulled his legs together in an Indian style and grabbed his ankles with his hands. Suddenly, he rocked his entire body and spun around on the floor, rolling over and over, laughter refusing to cease.

"Owen!" Heather said loudly over his laughter. "Owen, calm down!"

Owen stopped in the middle of the floor and his laughing stopped. He looked up at Heather. Tears filled his eyes. He let out a mortified whisper, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Owen," Heather said sympathetically.

"You got mad," Owen whispered, still sounding mortified but at the same time, he had a hurt, angry edge in his voice.

"I did get mad," Heather said softly, sounding a bit like she was pleading for forgiveness. She sat next to Owen and put an arm around her shoulder. "And I'm sorry."

"You mean it?" Owen asked, sounding rather like a four year old.

"Yes, I mean it," Heather explained. She began to feel exactly like a babysitter at this point. She stood up and smoothed her pajama shirt.

"Okay!" Owen piped happily. He began rolling on the floor again but immediately stopped and looked at Heather. "Why were you sleeping?" He asked, shoving his thumb in his mouth and biting down on it hard. "Ow!" He exclaimed and looked at the bright pink thumb. He looked at Heather with an expression mixed with hurt and shock. "That hurt!"

Heather chuckled and said, "Yes, that tends to happen." But when she bent down to kiss his finger playfully she smelled something in his breath and groaned. "How many cups of coffee had you had today?"

"Only thirteen!" Owen exclaimed, jumping quickly to his feet, his leg bouncing on the floor. **(I do that a lot!) **"And you think _that'd _get me a little more tired but right now I'm more energized then _before_ I drank the coffee! Isn't that weird?"

"Stupid question," Heather said, playfully smacking her head. "Was it decaf?"

"Why I would drink decaf?" Owen asked quickly. "That would take the fun out of things. Besides, I don't even think we _have _any decaf and if we did then we don't any more because I _drank it all_! And, _man_, was it a _lot_! I mean, most people can't drink thirteen cups of coffee but _I _did! Isn't that _funny?_"

"Yeah," Heather muttered. "Hilarious. Okay, I'm going to go get a phone. Stay in my room, okay?"

"Okay!" Owen said quickly, nodding his head and bouncing up and down.

"Don't leave my room," Heather instructed.

"Yeah!"

"And don't touch anything."

"Uh huh."

"Don't move a muscle."

"But if I don't move then I can't breathe and if I can't breathe I die and I don't want another reason to die!" Owen started spinning in fast circles.

"Okay, just don't…move," Heather said, letting out a breath. As she left her room she made extra sure that the door was locked. It wasn't that she didn't trust Owen. It was that she didn't trust Owen and _coffee_.

She called Lizzie's cell phone and waited for an answer. Finally the other line picked up.

"This better be good," A grumpy Lizzie said from the other line. "It's 3:45 in the morning."

"It's Owen," Heather said, trying to sound anxious. Truth was, she was anxious.

Lizzie's voice changed into one of worry.

"What about Owen?"

"He's…" Heather pondered what to say. The truth would be the best thing. "Had thirteen cups of coffee and is currently locked in my room and I _really _need help to get him calmed down!"

"Oh, God," Lizzie said. You could hear a door open. "Matthew," A soft _thud! _emittedalong with a grown from Matthew. "Get up! Owen had thirteen cups of coffee and we need to help Squint calm him down!"

Heather flinched and said, "I hate it when you call me Squint."

"I know," You could practically hear the smile on Lizzie's face. "That's why I do it."

And she hung up. Heather called Katherine who immediately answered and said she'd be right over. Next was Lily. She was going to need all the help she could get…

"Hey, Squint," Lily's perky voice came over the phone. "What's up?"

"Why are you so perky, Lils?" Heather asked, playing with a string on her pajama pants.

"Oh, I've been up for a bit. Really bored, you know, and…"

"You've been crying, haven't you?" Heather asked.

"N-no!" Lily's voice said. "Why would you think that?"

"Whenever you sound super perky, you've been crying."

"I haven't been- okay, I've been thinking, really," Lily admitted. Heather ripped the string off of her pants. She didn't expect Lilt to admit it. She heard Lily sigh and say, "I mean, why does everything happen to Owen? He doesn't do anything wrong!"

"You want to help him now?" Heather asked.

"Now?" Lily's voice was urgent and you could hear her scrambling around her room. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Is he okay?"

"He drank thirteen cups of coffee and is currently locked in my bedroom," Heather said. "You want to help calm the hyper beast?"

"Why did he drink thirteen cups of coffee?"

"Why did he put a quarter in his nose in third grade?"

"Good point. I'll be right over." She hung up and Heather returned upstairs. Her dad, luckily, was sleeping at the theatre that night with a group of kids doing a camp there. If he had known that Owen was at their house at three in the morning…

Then Heather realized that Ryan would probably be the one to drink fourteen cups of coffee to outmatch Owen's hyperness.

She chuckled and opened up her door. But Owen wasn't in there. And the window was wide open. But there was no roof below that window. Just cement on the patio. Heather screamed and ran over to the window.

"Owen!" She bellowed. "Owen, where are you?"

She heard a distant giggle and looked on the ground. Owen was huddled against the side of the house, hidden almost entirely by shadows and was pulling leaves off of a nearby bush and setting them into his hair, laughing crazily.

"Owen, did you jump?" Heather said.

Owen only giggled. Heather saw Matthew round the side of the house and look at Owen. Suddenly, Matthew began to laugh his head off at the sight of Owen. Owen laughed harder and Lizzie walked over to Owen, gently offering a hand.

Owen laughed and grabbed her hand, waving it in wild circles in the air. Lizzie started laughing at Owen's lack of brains at the moment and pulled him off the ground. But when Owen was helped off of the ground he stopped laughing and his face paled.

"That hurt me," He stated with anger brimming his voice.

"I'm sorry," Lizzie said. "I didn't grab your hand that hard."

Katherine and Lily both appeared on the side of the house. Lily looked up at Heather and waved. Katherine cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed, "I thought he was locked in your bedroom!"

"He was!" Heather said helplessly. A voice from the next house screamed, "Shut the heck up! Some people _sleep _at four in the morning!"

Heather laughed nervously, said her apology, and looked down at her friends. They looked up at her and Matthew shouted, worriedly, "Uh, Squint, I think you need to get down here!"

"Huh?"

"His leg doesn't look so good," Lily said, worry edging her accent.

"Oh no."

"I'm fine!" Owen said. Matthew pulled Owen's arm over his shoulder and Katherine the other, as they were the tallest and they started to bring Owen to the door, Owen limping the entire way. "Hey! Maybe! Maybe, we should have a party! And then! Then! We could invite a bunch of people! Like, like, everyone in the _whole wide world_! And maybe we could invite, like, _Superman! _'Cause that's your favorite, isn't it, Matthew?"

"Sure is," Matthew said absentmindedly, watching Owen's leg with great caution.

They all entered the house and all fawned over Owen's leg. Owen seemed not to notice the pain and begged them to stop so he could go see if he could catch the bird he was trying to catch earlier.

"You jumped out the window so you could catch a bird?" Matthew asked in a tone that clearly said _How dumb can you get?_.

"Well, it was really pretty! It was all red and stuff!" Owen said, as he was placed on the couch. He waved his hands wildly in the air and stated, "And get this! It could _fly!_"

"You don't say," Lily said, as she gently put Owen's leg on a pillow.

"Yeah!" Owen exclaimed. "And the bird was like _CHIRP! CHIRP! _So I said _WOOF! WOOF! _really loudly and it started to fly away! So I opened the window really quickly and jumped out but it was too far away. And then I hit the patio. That wasn't very fun. You wanna know something weird?"

"What's that?" Lizzie asked.

"When I hit the patio there was the like _CRACK _noise and after the crack came, my leg hurt a little bit. But then I saw the bird and it was in a _tree!_ Did you know birds live in trees?"

"Wait, a crack?" Katherine asked. She and Heather exchanged worried glances.

"No!" Owen said laughing. They both relaxed. "It was a _CRACK! _A really _loud _one!"

Their glances returned. Owen smiled at his friends widely and said, "What are you doing?" to Lily who was gently pushing up his pant leg. She gasped when she saw it. It was clearly broken, possibly shattered. She looked at her friends with a _This is not good _look.

"Owen," Heather said. "We're going to go on a car ride!"

"A _car ride_?" Owen asked as Matthew helped him to his feet. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to a happy place!" Matthew said, maneuvering Owen towards the door. "Where there are people in pink, green, white, and blues clothes! And they give out lollipops to the good kids!"

Owen's eyes widened.

"They're just _giving out _candy?" Owen asked, looking from teen to teen like he could hardly believe it. "Like, a whole ton of them?"

"Lots of lollipops, Owen," Lizzie said, pulling open the car door.

"Like _bagillions _of them?"

"Zillions."

"Whoa…"

And on the car ride to the hospital, Owen feel fast asleep, his head resting on Heather's lap, his leg spread out on the bench. Everyone was silent for a while and then Matthew spoke.

"Owen is an idiot."

Everyone laughed and Katherine said, "This isn't good though. I mean, first leukemia now this! Gosh, he's like an all around klutz!"

"Hey, guys, do you believe in karma?" Lily asked suddenly.

"Karma?" Lizzie asked. "Like, what goes around comes around, karma?"

"Yeah," Lily said. She turned her face from the window. "Because I don't. I mean, look where it's gotten us if it's real! Owen with leukemia and a broken leg, Luke _dead_, Ryan sued for full custody, Troy just got out of _jail _for something he didn't do! I mean, karma _sucks _if it's actual something."

"You know," Heather said. "I think you're right, Lils. I mean, Luke didn't do anything wrong and now he's gone! And Owen has done everything he can do to be kind and helpful and he's always there! You know what? Karma does suck!"

"I have a name for this," Matthew said with a laugh as he turned into the hospital parking lot. "The Great Bird Jump."

Everyone burst out laughing and Owen woke up.

"Whoa," He said, looking up. "How'd I get here?"

"You jumped out a window and ended up in the hospital parking lot," Lizzie said, jumping out of the front seat. "Weird, huh?"

"I jumped out a window?" Owen asked, blinking. He tried to shift himself but groaned loudly and fell back down.

"And it seems like you broke your leg," Katherine added, sticking her head over the backseat.

"Oh, great," Owen moaned, closing his eyes, his head still in Heather's lap. "Guys, this is bad! My dad's on probation!"

"Yeah…" Lily said, sticking her head next to Katherine's.

"They'll think it was him!" Owen said loudly. Everyone sat in silence and then burst out laughing.

"I'm sure they'll think that your dad threw you out a window!" Heather laughed. "C'mon, let's get that leg checked out."

…

Owen and Troy sat in the waiting room, Owen's lower leg in a dark blue cast. Troy was filling out some paper work when he looked at Owen and burst out laughing. Owen groaned and said, "Dad, are you going to laugh _every time _you look at me?"

"I'm sorry," Troy laughed. He ran a hand over his face and said, "But _you jumped out of a window? _How much caffeine did you drink?"

"Fine," Owen said, taking the paperwork out of his father's hand. He hit his dad over the head with the clipboard lightly and said, "_I'll _fill out the paperwork!"

Troy patted Owen's knee and took a trip to the bathroom, laughing the whole way there. Owen sighed and filled out the paperwork. A brightly colored pamphlet caught his eye. He picked it up and read it. Then, he began to fill it out.

It was a form from the Children's Hospital, to volunteer, help the kids with cancer and console the parents. Owen filled out all of his home information and took the question card.

**Full Name: Owen Montez Bolton**

**Birthdate: October 11, 2010**

**Age: 17**

**Height: 5' 10**

**Weight: _Excuse me?_**

**Hair Color: Dark brown**

**Eye Color: Brown**

**Hobbies: Art, acting, singing, dancing, etc.**

**Medical Problems: Peanut allergy, asthma, diabetes, and leukemia**

**Why are you volunteering: I want to do something good before I die.**

…

Heather sat at her kitchen table and sighed. She drummed her fingers on the wood and shushed her grumbling stomach. She sighed yet again and noisily pulled back her chair. She rummaged through the cabinets and found a package of unopened Oreos. She smiled.

Oreos sounded like a great dinner at the moment.

She got out a plate and put ten Oreos on her plate. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton. Slowly, Heather poured the white liquid in her cup and put the carton back in the refrigerator.

Then, she took a long, satisfying sip.

Suddenly, she realized that something was off. She was getting dizzy, her hands were shaking, she was breaking into a cold sweat. She dropped the milk and let it spill onto the floor, the plastic cup clatter and roll under the table.

And everything for Heather Evans…

Went black.

**As/n: Yeah, the milk returned! Well, must go do something. Review please! **


	25. Chapter 26

**As/n: Sorry it's taken so long for the update. Been busy, and my plot bunnies vanished without a trace for a while! Well, here you go! I have a feeling you'll be angry at the end of this chappie though.**

**Chapter 6**

**Todd Anthony**

Sunlight slipped through the blinded windows, poking Heather in the eyes. She rustled, pulling the covers quickly over her head. She moaned and brought her fingers to her temples as a pulse throbbed in her head. She tried to turn but was stopped instantly when she felt a tug at her wrist. Heather opened her blue eyes and stared at the I.V. protruding from her wrist.

"What the-," She began.

She threw the covers off of her head and looked around the room. It was a bright white, sterile and cleanliness covered the room. Dangerous looking tools lie on tables mere feet away from her.

Owen was passed out on one of the chairs next to her bed. Matthew and Lily were both leaning against the side of her bed, Lily's sleeping form resting on Matthew's. Katherine was in the chair next to Owen, her drowsing head on his strong shoulder. Lizzie was sitting upright on the floor, leaning her torso against Katherine's legs, sleeping heavily.

Heather shot upright and realized with dread that she was at the hospital and _she _was the patient. Her heart pounded as she looked at all of her friends, fear clawing her mind. Why was she here? What happened? She wandered vaguely why all of her friends were sleeping when she looked at the unfriendly clock on the wall. It read 3.30 A.M.

Suddenly, Lizzie stirred but fell back over, head resting on Katherine's shins. Lily shifted her weight on the floor and Katherine moved her head so her hair was not masking her face but otherwise, Heather was alone in a room with sleeping teenagers.

…

Four hours later found Heather twiddling her fingers and staring brightly at the ceiling. She had been counting the specks she saw on the ceiling for the last twenty-three minutes and fifty-seven seconds. So far she had counted 723 specks, four of which looked like Elvis's hairdo.

Suddenly, she sensed a disturbance as Matthew began to awaken. He shouted at the top of his lungs when he saw Heather sitting upright in the bed and jumped up, sending Lily's head to bounce on the frame of the bed. He pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and screamed loudly, "You're awake! You're awake! You're awake!"

Owen and Katherine's heads popped up and they slammed into each other swearing loudly. When Katherine had been hit in the head, she had shifted her legs causing Lizzie to fall forward and land on Lily's lap.

Everyone, after nursing his or her injuries, screamed loudly and gathered at the end of Heather's bed; even Owen whose crutches lay long forgotten on the floor. Everyone was frantically saying things to her and she had to scream at the top of her lungs, "Wait a second!"

They all fell silent for that literal second and began to jabber away again. Heather finally calmed them down enough to start get them to start explaining to her what had happened. She started by asking Lily who, young as she was, wouldn't get as carried away as the rest of the gang.

"Well, you passed out on your kitchen floor," Lily started, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting her foot which was protruding out of the blankets like a cloth covered mountain. "No one would've found you if Lizzie hadn't decided to crash your house that night."

"Well, your front door was locked so I went in through the garage-," Lizzie began.

"You know my garage code?" Heather asked stupidly.

"7562," Everyone recited in unison and Lizzie continued.

"Well once I was in your house, I called your name but you didn't answer so I got really worried about you," She said. "That's when I went in the kitchen where you were passed out on the floor; milk was splattered everywhere and your Oreos were crushed on the table."

"How did I pass out?" Heather asked alarmed.

"Poison," Owen explained, hobbling over and sitting on the opposite side, facing Lily. "It turns out that when Callie was at your house a couple of days ago, she had put Raid Bug Poisoning in your milk carton."

"Odd tactic, really," Matthew interrupted. "Well, Lizzie called me, screaming her head off saying you had died and I rushed over to your house as fast as I could with Katherine. When we got there, Lizzie was in a fit of hysterics on the floor next to you and that's when Katherine called Owen."

"Owen was still at the hospital with Lily and Troy so Lily rushed down to the front desk and told them where to go right away," Katherine filled in. "Then Owen called your dad who rushed home as quickly as he could and the ambulances arrived and brought you here."

Heather was silent for a moment before saying, "How long have I been here?"

"Two days short of a week," Owen mumbled, grabbing her hand and rubbing his thumb around on it absentmindedly.

"_Five days_?" Heather screamed loudly. "Five days? How much poison did I consume?"

"A lot."

Heather was released that afternoon, her father harping on her and pulling her into every hug he could get, tears brimming his eyes. As they stepped into the bright sun, Heather burst into happiness and began to run around in the front of the building. It was then she realized that that group has been at the hospital _way _too much.

…

Three days later, Heather, Matthew, Katherine, and Lily were in Owen's living room, eating chips and popcorn while mindlessly flipping through channels.

Pretzels and crumbs littered the floor where Lily laid on her stomach, feet in the air, chin resting in one hand and the remote in the other. Matthew was sitting on the couch with his socked feet on the coffee table, munching down the Sour Cream and Onion Lay's as he stared at the television with no interest. Katherine was curled in a ball on the other end of the couch, reading Home and Garden Magazine (which the Bolton's ordered for her enjoyment), flipping the pages idly. Heather sat cross-legged in a huge armchair and held the popcorn bowl protectively to her chest, eating handfuls every three minutes.

Owen staggered into the house as night enveloped the sky. He threw his keys on the little wooden table at the front of the house. He made his way down the little hallway, crutches loudly stomping there way through. He made his way past the living room when he stopped and back tracked, staring at his friends with a look of amusement.

"Hey, guys," He said as if this was normal behavior. "When's dinner?"

"I just put a meatloaf in the oven ten minutes ago," Katherine said vacantly flipping through the magazine. Heather nodded, stuffing a fistful of popcorn in her mouth and saying, "I'm tossing a salad in fifteen minutes."

Lily flipped very quickly through the channels and said, "The cookies are on the cooling rack." Matthew looked at the ceiling and sighed, "And I set the table."

Owen chuckled. This was typical Saturday night for him, coming home and finding his house trashed by his friends who were watching TV and eating the Boltons out of house and home. He noticed something. Every time he came here, though, Lizzie was sitting next to Lily on the floor, her arms propping up her torso as she chowed down on the Bolton's Cheeze-It Grips, which Owen rather detested as they tasted like a stale Cheeze-It to him, but they had to be fully stocked for when the gang came over.

But… Lizzie was nowhere to be found. Her spot of covered by bits of food and it seemed oddly empty. The room felt odd without her eating all of Owen's food, complaining that she needed a boyfriend. But all of the oddness went away when the front door slammed open and Lizzie galloped inside, hair flowing behind her.

"Hey, guys, sorry I was late," She said, throwing her coat on the coat rack. "I was at the Tango Mango and I got us some smoothies though." She gave a guilty smile and held up a cardboard tray of smoothies up to show that she wasn't lying. She opened her mouth to speak again but Owen cut her off.

"The Grips are in the top cabinet next to the coffee," He said, leaning his crutches against the wall and balancing on one foot so he could pull his sweatshirt off. It was speckled with red and yellow paint and everyone became oddly aware of Owen's presence at that point.

"Where were you, by the way?" Matthew asked, putting the chips on the side table.

"I was at the hospital," Owen said, tossing his sweatshirt so that it landing on Katherine's head. She shook it off and everyone stared worriedly at Owen as he threw himself on the couch between Katherine and Matthew.

Owen looked at everyone's expression and gave a little laugh. He waved his hand and pushed his floppy bangs away from his eyes. "No, I was at the Children's Hospital."

"Owen, sweetie," Heather said with false sincerity. "I know you _feel _like a big boy, but you are still a child."

"No, I was volunteering!" Owen said, slouching on the couch and grabbing the pretzels off of the coffee table. He shoved a couple in his mouth and Lizzie, returning from the kitchen with a package of Grips in her hand said shortly, "Ew."

"Oh, come on, Liz," Owen said. "They're great kids. I even got a finger-painting!" He rummaged through his pocket and Matthew snorted. "Yeah, on your sweatshirt." Owen poked his tongue out through his teeth and grabbed out a folded piece of paper.

There were two stick figures, one was big and blue, the other small and red. They were holding stubs and smiling so broadly that their dots for eyes hardly fit inside of their enormous circular heads. They stood on a wiggle of green grass, a happy yellow sun smiling at them. At the bottom of the paper there was a note written in impossible-to-read little-kid handwriting. But barley decipherable, it read: Thanks, Owen!

"Cute!" Katherine said happily, head shooting towards the kitchen as a timer sounded. "And that's dinner. Everyone wash their hands and- Matthew, stop playing with Owen's crutches!"

Owen laughed loudly as Matthew swung madly around the room on his crutches, singing a rhythm-less tune and kicking his legs up at every chance he got. When he reached Owen, he pulled him off his feet and made Owen hop around the room as one arm was mercilessly trapped in his strong grasp.

Heather finally hit Matthew hard over the head, causing him to recoil and shrink backwards, holding the crutches for Owen. "Here you go," He mumbled with anger, resembling a kindergartener's attitude.

Owen gave a laugh and rustled Matthew's shaggy hair. He stooped down a few two inches and said softly, "Tell you what, you can ride them _all the way _in the kitchen!"

Matthew's eyes brightened and he rushed into the kitchen, yodeling madly. Everyone laughed as the teenager threw himself into a kitchen chair and wiggled with anticipation. He banged his fork and knife on the table and said, "I want food!"

…

After dinner, everyone was sitting around the table munching on Lily's chocolate chip cookies. Apparently she had inherited her father's baking skills at age four when she cooked a platter of sugar cookies without a recipe or without help from her mother who was possibly the worst baker ever.

"I have decided to boycott air," Katherine announced suddenly. Everyone looked at him. Heather chocked in her water and said, "And why's that?"

"I don't know," Katherine said, stretching lethargically. "But I am _not _dependent on air anymore!" And she held his breath, her cheeks puffing out. Owen reached across the table and pushed her cheeks in so that the air came out with a loud splutter of her lips.

"Okay, so how was your date with Todd, Lizzie?" Katherine said, grabbing another cookies of the platter. Matthew spit out his water. He blinked his eyes numerous times and screamed, "What?"

"Katherine!" Lizzie said, burying her face in her hands.

"Ohhhh," Katherine said realizing something. "When you said don't tell anyone you meant don't tell _Matthew_! …Oops."

"Who's Todd?" Matthew demanded. Lizzie groaned and replied coolly, "None of your business."

Matthew was angered beyond belief. He threw his hands in the air and said, "Seriously, Liz, who's Todd? I won't kill him!"

Lizzie eyed him carefully. She looked disbelievingly at him. "You promise?"

Matthew put up his hand in a scout's honor. "I promise." Lizzie still looked disbelieving. She shook her head and put her arms across her chest, saying, "You have to pinky swear."

"I pinky swear!" Matthew said earnestly, holding out his pinky. Their pinkies locked and Lizzie nodded approvingly. "Fine. His name's Todd Anthony and I met him at the Tango Mango two weeks ago."

Owen spit out his water this time. "Todd Anthony?"

"Yeah, you know him?" Lizzie asked adoringly.

"A little," Owen admitted, fidgeting in his seat. The only communication he had with Todd Anthony was when they were in the locker rooms, Todd would give _every _detail about his date that he had the previous night and about how long he had kissed each girl, _rating _them, like they were some prize.

Owen though he was a pig.

"Well, he's nice, and funny, and sweet, and I think I'm _actually _going to have a serious relationship," Lizzie said, sighing.

"May I speak even though my pinky swear has permitted me to do anything mean?" Matthew asked.

Lizzie sighed exasperatedly. "If you must."

"You can't go out with him!" Matthew burst. "I-I _forbid_ you!"

"You _forbid_ me?" Lizzie laughed. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Lizzie, I'm serious," Matthew said, ignoring all of the girl's laughter.

"He's not a good guy; I would know," Owen spoke. "He's in my homeroom."

"Oh, so _you _don't like him and now _I _can't date him?" Lizzie asked heatedly. Her face was steadily darkening with anger, her arms crossed in front of her chest irately.

"Lizzie, it's not just that!" Owen cried. "He's _bad_, okay, _really _bad!"

"Oh, I'm leaving," Lizzie said defiantly.

"Lizzie, wait!" Owen rushed out behind her, crutches long forgotten at the table. When Lizzie reached the front door, she pulled it open and grabbed her coat off the rack. "Lizzie, please-," Owen began, but Lizzie cut him off.

"You know, I would've expected this from Matthew," She said shaking her head. "But not from you."

She slammed the door in his face, leaving him upset and scared. He knew one thing: Todd Anthony was not good news. Hearing about him sent shivers up his spine. Todd Anthony was a bad kid… a really bad kid…

"_Bolton!" He screamed. "What are you doing?"_

"_I'm walking," Owen replied nastily. "Do I need permission?"_

"_Get out of here!"_

"_I have class here in three minutes, Todd. What do you want me to do? Spend my time in the hallway?"_

"_No, spend it at the hospital, freak!" He swung out and punched Owen hard in the face. Owen staggered and stopped, terrified at what was happening and when Todd didn't stop, he knew something was wrong. Being treated like a human punching was never good…_

He had to get Lizzie away from Todd… and fast.

…

Lizzie wiped tears out of her eyes as she drove crazily down the road. Darkness had befallen the town, masking everything in shadows. Trees were blurry forms against the dark sky and birds _just _managed to twitter away as she tore down the road, headlights blaring.

How _dare _they say that about Todd? For the past two weeks he had been nothing less of a gentleman to her, always helping her out of the car, always buying her things. He was the sweetest boyfriend _ever _and they had no right to judge him.

Lizzie pulled up in front of Todd's house and got out of the car quickly. She ran into the home, searching madly for Todd. She found him sitting in the living room, watching television. When Todd saw Lizzie, he stood up hastily and rushed over, pulling her into a tight hug.

"What happened?" He asked. "Who did this to you?" Lizzie shook her head and Todd said, "I swear, I will beat the person who did this to you!"

"No, Todd," Lizzie said. "Chill. I'll be okay."

And just like that, Lizzie fell head over heels for Satan himself, not aware of the dangers she would soon face.

**As/n: Again, sorry for the long update period. That'll be happening for a bit because I'm extremely busy; exams just around the corner! Todd may seem nice, but don't worry… he's not. Not much happened in this chapter except for the introduction of a new character. Well, hope you enjoyed! **


	26. Chapter 27

**As/n: Okay, I am SOOOO sorry for the long update period! I've had much of a writer's block plus the fact I've had a couple of family/friend problems lately that I needed to sort out! Still sorry! I'm writing a super long chapter to make it up to you guys! Look for the poll at the end of the chapter! **

**Chapter 7**

** Take A Stand**

The distance between the friends only grew worse as the days wore on. Owen felt his heart break every time he saw Lizzie strolling down the hall hand-in-hand with Todd. He could only watch hopelessly as his best friend was being taken around by the devil and it only drove her brother into a fit of insanity.

Matthew stayed up wide-awake every night the two had a date just to make sure she made it home okay. Sure enough, every night, she would. Safe and sound, just the way he wanted but for some reason this bugged him to death. He _knew _Todd Anthony was a bad guy so why was he being such a gentleman? What drove him to be so kind to his sister? Not that he was complaining but he knew _deep down_ that Todd was going to do something to crush her and he would have to be there to pick up the pieces.

He hoped the time was soon.

Heather and Katherine could only watch as their best friend decided to ditch them to hang out with that _loser _she called a boyfriend. They couldn't take it anymore and they had cracked. They wanted their friend back and they wanted her back _now._

Owen was finally almost completely driven into insanity by the subtlety of Todd's actions and decided to take matters in his own hands. He was going to have to sit down and talk to Lizzie even if it would kill her… more importantly, even if she was going to kill _him._

Lizzie made her way down the hall of East High, humming an unknown tune. She opened her blue locker happily and smiled as she saw Todd's picture come into view. She lazily dumped books into her locker and grabbed out new ones, hugging them happily. Lizzie shut her locker down and let out a scream, for Owen was right there.

"Go away," She said acidly as Owen opened his mouth to speak.

Lizzie quickly stomped away and traveled down the hall, trying her best to avoid Owen for as long as possible. This proved to be _im_possible and she gave up, turning to face him. Then she shouted, "What?"

"Liz, I really need to talk to you," Owen said earnestly, balancing on his crutches delicately. Lizzie huffed and said, "Too bad."

Lizzie turned and started down the hall again, a frown creasing her mouth. It was _so like _Owen to be over-protective; she didn't mind that. But Todd was a good guy and Owen would soon have to realize that she wasn't a little girl anymore and she could defiantly pick a boyfriend for herself.

Owen stood defeated at the end of the hall and watched Lizzie disappear from his sight. He sighed and hobbled to fifth period with none other than the Todd Anthony himself.

…

After school, Owen stood next to a stone bench in front of the school and waited for Lizzie to show up. He waited for as long as he could and finally, he saw her sparkly backpack (which she herself had adorned with purple rhinestones) flicker in the afternoon sun. Lizzie noticed Owen but threw her head up high, ignoring his mere presence.

"He beat me, Liz," Owen called.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Lizzie quickly whipped around, her black hair slapping her cheeks. She walked closer to Owen and looked directly into his chocolate brown eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Owen let out a long sigh, "It was last year and I was going to class. I don't know- I guess he just didn't like me and he decided to beat me up. I know what you're going to say but I just don't want you to get hurt."

Lizzie's face softened with complete regret and hurt. But as suddenly as the softening came, it went, leaving an expression of pure hatred spread across her face. She poked Owen hard in the chest and said, "That is so _low_, Owen! Just because _you _don't like him, doesn't mean that you can make up a bad story about him! Especially one like _that_!"

"Lizzie, listen to me!" Owen said, trying to regain balance after Lizzie's extremely hard poke. "I wouldn't make that up! It's happened to me _before_, remember? I just don't want you to get in trouble!"

"You just can't stand the fact that I'm not a little girl anymore!" Lizzie shouted, throwing her hands in the air in absolute disgust. "Well, I'm _not_ and the sooner you realize that, the better!"

"Lizzie, the guy is a total _jerk_!" Owen shouted. Owen was still taller than Lizzie, even when stooping on crutches but Lizzie -little Lizzie- had the strength of a bear and trust me, she was no coward.

Lizzie pushed out her foot and knocked the crutches out from under Owen's leaning body. He sprawled out into the mud and looked up at Lizzie, his face flecked with brown mud. She clicked her disapprovingly and whispered, "Get away from me, Owen… and don't you dare come back."

Lizzie let out an audible sniffle and stormed away. Owen watched her from his spot in the mud puddle on the ground until she was a nothing on the horizon. A voice snapped Owen out of a nightmarish reverie.

"O?" Matthew asked. "What are you doing in the mud?"

"I'm dancing," Owen said hiding his sarcasm. "Just help me out."

Matthew heaved Owen out of the mud with a squelch. Owen dusted himself off and stood, poised, on his left foot until Matthew had retrieved his crutches. Owen muttered his thanks and grabbed them. Matthew rubbed dirt off of Owen's face and said, "How, dare I ask, did you end up in the mud?"

"I tripped on a rock," Owen said, hoping to dear God that Matthew didn't realize that there were, in fact, _zero _rocks around. Of course, Matthew had never been very observant.

"Nice," Matthew said, laughing and clapping his friend on the back. "Come on. We need to see how the court session is doing."

"I can't believe they've been debating for two weeks!" Owen said as he hobbled towards the car with Matthew by his side. "You'd think it'd be obvious who would get to keep her considering Emily's past record!"

"For Christ Sake, the woman hasn't been here for like thirteen years!" Matthew said, climbing into the car and slamming the door in frustration. "You _know _that Ryan is the better parent."

Owen got into the car with some difficulty. Finally, Matthew blasted the radio and sped downtown to the courthouse where the trial was being held. Owen gripped his armrests in fear of a crash but it was amazing how well Matthew maneuvered speeding seventy-seven miles down a road.

………

Ryan was sitting on the stand when the two teens slipped in the door and next to Katherine and Lily and the rest of the gang (parents included) in the bench in the front of the courthouse. Not many people were there, as this case wasn't very large. But Owen did notice a large sign on the right side of the courthouse that said, "Women Deserve the Right! Give Heather to Emily!" which Matthew took very careful care to tread over and completely destroy.

Ryan looked down at Emily with such hatred that Owen almost winced. She paced in front of him, teasing him like you would as if it was a pit bull and a slab of meat. Emily was crying fake tears, which seemed to captivate everyone but the gang and they all started screaming their "Yeah!"s and their "Of course!"s. Lily threw such a dirty look at an older gentleman that he cowered in his seat and hardly dared to breath.

"…Of course, I come up with my last piece of evidence in the fact that Ryan Bradley Evans is an unfit parent," Emily concluded with her sob story that just about made Owen throw up.

She placed a piece of paper on the judge's desk. He pulled his reading glasses on and read, shooting an absolute look of disgust in Ryan's direction. The old judge cleared his throat and said loudly, "Would Owen Bolton please take the stand?"

Owen froze as all of the gang stared in his direction. His face reddened, not of embarrassment, not even anger… just pure shock rushing over him. He slowly hobbled his way up to the stand, pledged his honesty and sat. Emily stepped up and said nastily, "Why, hello, Owen."

"Miss Donavon," Owen replied in a mockingly polite way.

She smiled in a false act of sweetness and went on with her questioning. She paced, as she had with Ryan and began with, "You know my d-daughter Heather, correct, Owen?" She sniffled at the mention of her daughter's name.

"Yes," Owen replied whilst thinking, _Die, bitch._

"Are you aware that almost two weeks ago, she was poisoned?"

"Yes."

A gasp rippled through the crowd and Emily let a few more fake tears leak down her cheeks and nodded sadly at the crowd. Heather sunk in her chair and threw a desperate, terrified look at Owen. Owen gave a grim look and stared back down at Emily.

"So?" He asked. "It's not look Ryan poured poison down her throat!"

"My daughter was _poisoned _in the care of Ryan!" Emily shouted. "Judge Collins, I want my daughter safe! That boy right there, Owen Bolton, has _hurt _my daughter and Ryan _let _it happen!"

"What?" Heather screamed at the top of her lungs. She had stood up in her anger and proceeded towards her mother. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Judge Collins, I have reason to believe that my daughter is being hurt by Owen Bolton!"

"What?" Heather said even louder than before. "First of all, what the _hell _are you talking about? And second, what does that have to do with this case?"

"I also have reason to believe," Emily went on to the judge, ignoring Heather's outburst. "That Ryan Evans has encouraged it!"

A ripple of chatter swarmed the courthouse as the entire gang sat dumbfounded. Katherine, Lily, and Matthew burst out laughing. Everyone turned to see them wiping tears away from their eyes.

"What?" Katherine asked through her laughter. "Are you talking about?"

"You seriously-" Matthew never got to finish because he fell into another fit of laughter. Lily had to fill in.

"Owen would _never _Heather and Ryan would _never _think about hurting her. I think you guys are just plain crazy!"

"Lily!" Zeke and Sharpay exclaimed.

"We'll take a ten minute recess and return," Judge Collins said, banging his gavel. He stood up, as did the crowd, and left. Everyone shot evil looks at Ryan and Owen as they made their way to the gang.

Matthew clapped Ryan on the back and said, "Sorry for laughing."

Ryan just swallowed and nodded gravely, staring straight ahead and out of the windows. Heather came up and Ryan never looked down but pulled her into a long hug, which, once broken, never _really _broke. Ryan and Heather clasped their hands together, letting their fingers intertwine with each other. Ryan didn't even flinch when Heather's grip tightened. He just squeezed her hand and stared ahead.

Finally Judge Collins, followed by three bailiffs, entered the court. Everyone returned to their seats and waited for the verdict. The judge cleared his throat heartily and said, "By order of myself, the jury, and the court system of Albuquerque, New Mexico, Emily Donovan has gained full-custody over Heather Evans."

Pandemonium broke loose as the gang stood absolutely dumbfounded, their feet rooted to the very ground. People were screaming cheers of joy and laughter as they congratulated Emily and threw very nasty looks at Ryan. Heather headed over to Ryan but was stopped by a bailiff.

"Go to your mom, sweetheart," He said with an odd gentleness for a man his size.

Heather shook her head and let her tears fall down her face. She tried to push past the bailiff but failed miserably as the man grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to steer her to Emily.

"Dad!" Heather screamed, tears flowing like faucets down her face.

"Heather!" Ryan jumped forward to reach his crying daughter but was stopped by two bailiffs. Try as he might, Ryan could not get in-between them. He shouted again but the crowds' noise only took his hoarse words away. Heather beat on the bailiff's wrists with her fist and screamed, "Let me go! Dad!"

"Heather!" Ryan broke through the bailiffs but one grabbed his shoulders and dragged him away from Heather saying gruffly, "Stay away from her."

Finally, Lily stood on the table meant for lawyers and their clients and wolf-whistled. The whole crowd went silent at the piercing noise and stared at Lily who stood perched on the table, angrily staring down at Emily.

"You _evil_, twisted woman!" Lily shouted at her. Zeke and Sharpay made no objection. "How could you do that to Ryan?"

"Excuse me, she's _my _daughter, too," Emily objected.

"But you don't care about her!" Katherine shouted at her. "You only care about the child support money you'll get!"

"_I'll _give you the money!" Matthew said. "Just let Heather stay!"

"_I _gave birth to her!" Emily shouted. "She is _my _child! I have every rite to keep her!"

"And you had that rite fourteen years ago when you left her!" Owen screamed.

Ryan was now crying freely, letting the tears fall onto his nicest shirt he owned. He didn't care that everyone was watching. He didn't care that his shirt was probably going to get ruined. He just wanted his daughter.

"_Please, _Emily, _please!_" He pleaded her. "Please let me keep Heather! I'll pay child support still! I'll- I'll pay all your bills but _please _don't take her away!"

Emily shot him a nasty look and grabbed a sobbing Heather by the wrist. She dragged her out of the court by the arm. Just before the door slammed with an echoing clang Heather let out a high-pitched scream, "Dad!"

"Heather!" Ryan shouted letting the reverberations pound through his chest. He brought himself into a chair and put his beautiful blonde head into his hands, letting his shoulders shake with suppressed sobs. Troy laid a hand on Ryan's shaking back as the crowd cleared from the court, murmuring over what just took place in the court's walls.

Ryan sobbed ever harder as the entire place emptied except for the gang. He let his sobs carry through the empty room, echoing loudly and then fading into an unknown ecstasy. Ryan Evans sobbed until he felt he could sob no more.

Ryan took a stand and climbed until he got to the top and when he reached there, he fell so hard, he thought he would never get back up again.

**As/n: Was that long enough? I do hope so! Well, I'm going to ask you to fill out a survey… just do it in the review! (If you choose to review of course which, hopefully, you will) Please write the letter AND the words after!**

** 1. Who is your favorite couple?**

** a.) Owen and Heather **

** b.) Katherine and Matthew**

** c.) Heather and Clark**

** d.) Lizzie and Todd**

**2. Which is your favorite edition in the series?**

**a.) In the Blink of an Eye**

**b.) When an Angel Falls**

**c.) A Twist of Fate**

** 3. If anyone **_**had **_**to die, who would you choose? (Don't worry! No one is dying!)**

** a.) Owen**

** b.) Heather**

** c.) Troy**

** d.) Ryan**

**4. Which talent would you like the best? (Based off of the teens)**

**a.) Owen- art**

**b.) Heather- poetry**

**c.) Lizzie- debate**

**d.) Matthew- skateboarding**

**e.) Katherine- hip-hop dance (ha! Bet you didn't know that!)**

**f.) Lily- horseback riding**

**Well that's all! Thanks for being so patient! P.S. If you choose Heather and Clark for your favorite couple, I will bite you. LoL jk!!**


End file.
